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STIUNGE  VISITORS: 


A  SERIES  OF  ORIGLNAL  TAPERS, 


EMBRACING 


PHILOSOPHY,     SCIENCE,     GOVERNMENT,    RELIGION,    POETRY, 

ART,   FICTION,    SATIRE,  HUMOR,  NARRATIVE, 

AND   PROPHECY. 


BY  THE 

SPIRITS    OF   IRVING,     WILLIS,    THACKERAY,    BRONTE, 
RICHTER,   BYRON,  HUMBOLDT,  HAWTHORNE, 
WESLEY,  BROWNING, 

AND    OTHERS 

Ufliu  gtocllittg  \\\  \\t  Sprit  MnX^, 


DICTATED    THROUGH 

A   CLAIRVOYANT, 

'WHILE  IN  AN  ABNOBMAI.  OB  TBARCE  STATE. 


m;^ 


NEW   YORK: 
Carleton,  J'ublishei^  ^VIadison   ^quAF^. 

LONDON  :    S.  LOW,  SON,  &    CO. 
MDCCCLXrX. 


Entered,  according  to  an  Act  of  Congreas,  in  the  year  1869,  by 

GEORGE   W.   CARLETON, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern  District  of 

New  York. 


Stereotyped  at 
The   Women's   Printing   House, 

Eighth  Street  and  Avenue  A, 
New  York. 


H783S 
TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

Henhy  J.  Raymond Totlie  New  York  Public 9 

Margaret  Fuller .Literature  in  Spirit  Life 22  " 

Lord  Byron To  His  Accusers 27 

Nathaniel  Hawthorne.  .Apparitions 29  ' 

Washington  Irving Visit  to  Henry  Clay 40 

Napoleon  Bonaparte To  Tlie  French  Nation 50 

W.  M.  Thackeray His  Post  Mortem  Experience 52 

Archbishop  Hughes Two  Natural  Religions 57 

Edgab  a.  Poe The  Lost  Soul 61 

Jean  Paul  Richter Livisible  Influences 63 

Charlotte  Bronte Agnes  Beef.    A  Tale 65 

Elizabeth  B.  Browning.  .  To  Her  Husband 132 

Artemus  Ward In  and  Out  of  Purgatory 134 

Lady  Blessington Distinguished  Womai 142 

Professor  Olmstead Locality  of  tlie  Spirit  World. 149 

Adah  Isaacs  Menken Hold  Me  Not 152 

N.  P.  Willis Off-Hand  Sketches 154 

Margaret  Fuller City  of  Spring  Garden 166 

Gilbert  Stuart Art  Conversation. 175 

Edward  Everett.  .^ Government 179 

Frederika  BREiiER Flight  to  my  Starry  Home 184 

(iii) 


ir.Q/!/i,Q^ 


iv  T^iBLE  OF  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Eev.  Lyman  Beeciier,  . . .  Tlie  Sabbath  —  Its  Uses 190 

Prof.  George  Bush Life  and  Mari'iage  in  Spirit  Life,  196 

Junius  Brutus  Booth Acting  by  Spirit  Influence 303 

Kev.  John  Wesley Church  of  Christ 307 

N.  P.  Willis A  Spirit  Bevdsiting  Earih 311 

Allan  Ccnningiiam Ahne 213 

Baron  Von  Humboldt  . . .  Tlie  Earthquake 313 

Sir  David  Brewster Naturalness  of  Spirit  Life 310 

H.  T.  Buckle Mormons 333 

W.  E.  Burton Drama  in  Spirit  Life 327 

Chas.  L.  Elliott Painting  in  Spirit  Life 331 

Comedian's  Poetry RdlicMng  Song 335 

Lady  Hester  Stanhope  . .  PropJiecy 336 

Professor  Mitchell The  Planets 343 

Dr.  John  W.  Fkancis... .Causes  of  Disease  and  Insanity. .  846 
Adelaide  Procter T7i,e  Spirit  Bride. 250 


INTRODUCTION". 


£y  THE  EDITOR. 


In  placing  before  the  public  a  work  witli  such  novel 
and  extraordinary  demands  upon  its  consideration,  a  few 
explanatory  words  seem,  appropriate. 

Its  title  and  contents  will  doubtless  at  first  sight  cause 
a  smile  of  incredulity,  and  will  be  regarded  by  many  as 
one  of  the  devices  wliich  are  sometimes  put  forward  to 
entrap  an  unsuspecting  public  into  the  perusal  of  a  sen- 
sational hoax. 

For  a  number  of  years  past  the  community  has  been 
surprised  with  accounts  of  most  incredible  marvels ;  and 
from  time  to  time  the  press  has  reported  various  phe- 
nomena in  connection  with  an  unrecognized  force  and- 
intelligence^  as  occurring  in  almost  every  locality  through- 
out the  habitable  globe. 

These  phenomena  are  thought  by  many  to  be  mere 
illusions,  and  by  some  attributed  to  peculiar  electrical 
conditions ;  while  others  seek  their  solution  in  an  abnonnal 
state  of  the  brain ;  and  others  still  believe  them  dependent 
on  an  actual  intercourse  between  mortals  and  those  who 
have  passed  beyond  the  grave. 


vi  INTRODUCTION. 

Having  become  interested  in  this  mysterious  and  ex- 
citing siibjecl);  Jind  finding  the  means  at  hand  for  testing 
the  various  phenomena,  I  resolved  to  undertake  a  series 
of  experiments,  with  the  hope  of  exposing  a  delusion,  if 
such  it  were,  or  perchance,  of  clearing  up  a  mystery  which, 
by  the  magnitude  and  importance  it  has  already  assumed, 
is  disturbing  the  foundations  of  old  beliefs  and  steadily 
diffusing  its  theories  and  doctrines  into  the  very  heart  of 
society. 

Among  other  expedients  to  attain  this  end  (assuming  the 
hypothesis  that  spirits  of  the  departed  were  in  a  condition 
to  communicate  with  mortals),  I  inten*ogated,  through  the 
instrumentality  of  a  clairvoyant  gifted'Vith  the  remai-k- 
able  power  of  passing  at  will  into  an  unconscious  or  trance 
state,  the  spirits  of  a  number  of  well-known  individuals 
concerning  their  views  and  sentiments  in  their  present 
state  of  existence. 

In  response  to  my  questions,  an  intelligent  answer  was 
received  from  the  Countess  Ossoli  (Margaret  Fuller),  with 
the  assurance  that  my  desire  was  apprehended  and  would 
receive  the  hearty  co-operation  of  those  to  whom  it  was 
addressed. 

The  process  by  which  the  papers  were  given  was  that 
of  dictation  through  the  clairvoyant  while  in  an  abnormal 
or  trance  condition  and  with  her  eyes  closed.  The  matter 
was  written  in  pencil  as  it  fell  from  her  lips,  and  subse- 
quently transcribed  for  the  press. 

Tlie  difficulties  attending  the  transmission  of  ideas 
through  the  medium  of  another  mind,  even  under  ordi- 


INTRODUCTION.  vu 

nary  circumstances,  must  be  apparent  to  all,  and  the  un- 
prejudiced reader  may  readily  perceive  obstacles  to  the 
literal  reproduction  of  their  respective  styles  and  language 
by  the  various  contributors. 

Yet,  notwithstanding  the  impediments  to  felicity  of  ex- 
pression, I  feel  assured  that  persons  at  all  familiar  with 
the  characteristics  of  the  originals  will  readily  perceive 
a  marked  resemblance  in  style  to  that  of  the  authors 
named. 

In  the  delivery  of  the  articles,  their  composers  would 
usually  assume  or  personate  their  own  individual  charac- 
teristics; thus,  Artemus  Ward's  conversation  and  ges- 
tures were  exceedingly  ludicrous.  He  was  the  very  per- 
sonification of  mirth,  occasionally  going  to  the  wall  and 
humorously  "chalking  out"  his  designs.  Archbishop 
Hughes  expressed  himself  in  a  quiet,  earnest,  and  elo- 
quent manner.  Lady  Blessington  was  full  of  vivacity,  and 
Margaret  FvJler  was  our  Presiding  Angel ;  while  Booth 
would  become  vehement  to  an  intense  degree,  and  at  times 
wovdd  mount  some  article  of  furniture  in  the  room,  becom- 
ing passionately  eloquent,  as  if  again  upon  the  "mimic 
stage  of  life," 

An  intelligent  public  will  perceive  the  mental  effort 
incident  upon  the  production  of  a  series  of  articles  so 
tmusually  varied;  embracing  the  distiactive  qualities  of 
Philosophy,  Science,  Religion,  Political  Economy,  Gov- 
ernment, Satire,  Humor,  Poetry,  Fiction,  Narrative,  Art, 
Astronomy,  etc.,  etc.;  and  the  query  has  fitly  been  ad- 
vanced, —  what  miad,  in  the  exercise  of  its  normal  func- 


viii  INTRODUCTION. 

tions,  —  lias  furnished  a  consecutive  number  of  essays  so 
surprising  in  novelty,  so  diverse  in  sentiment,  so  consistent 
in  treatment,  and  so  forcibly  original,  as  those  embraced 
in  this  volume  ?  What  intellect  so  versatile  as  to  repro- 
duce in  song  and  narrative  the  characteristic  styles  of  so 
many,  and  yet  so  dissimilar  authors  ? 

In  designating  the  locality  of  the  Second  Life,  frequent 
repetition  of  certain  terms,  such  as  spirit  world,  etc.,  were 
unavoidable.  For  weeks  and  months  the  unseen  visitors 
were  punctual  to  their  appointments,  and  this  novel  mode 
of  book-making  proceeded  steadily  in  interest  and  variety 
until  the  volume  was  completed. 

The  work  is  now  inscribed^ to  a  discriminating  public, 
with  a  lively  confidence  that  the  advanced  intelligence  and 
freedom  of  the  age  will  yield  it  an  ingenuous  reception. 

Henry  J.  Horn. 
New  York,  October  1«<,  1869. 


STRANGE  VISITORS. 


■•>=3C<^ 


HENRY  J.  RAYMOND. 


TO   THE  NEIV  YORK  PUBLIC. 


I  HAVE  often  thought  that  if  it  should  ever  be  my 
privilege  to  become  a  ghost  I  would  enlighten  the 
poor,  benighted  denizens  of  the  earth  as  to  how  I  did 
it,  and  give  a  more  definite  account  of  what  I  should 
see,  and  the  transformation  that  would  befall  me, 
than  either  Benjamin  Franklin  or  George  Washing- 
ton had  been  able  to  do  in  the  jargon  that  had  been 
set  before  me  by  Spiritualists  as  coming  from  those 
worthies. 

"  Stuff ! "  I  have  exclaimed  again  and  again,  after 
looking  over  spirit  communications  and  wondering 
why  a  man  should  become  so  stilted  because  he  had 
lost  his  avoirdupoise. 

The  opportunity  which  I  boasted  I  would  not  let 
slip  has  arrived.  The  public  must  judge  of  how  I 
avail  myself  of  this  ghostly  power. 

Now  and  then  I  was  troubled  with  strange  mis- 
givings  about  the  future  life.     I  had  a  hope  that 


10  HENRY  J.  RAYMOND. 

man  miijht  live  hereafter,  but  death  was  a  solemn 
fact  to  me,  into  whose  mystery  I  did  not  wish  too 
closely  to  pry. 

"Presentiments,"  as  the  great  English  novelist 
remarks,  "  are  strange  thino-s."  That  connection 
with  some  coming  event  which  one  feels  like  a 
shadowy  hand  softly  touching  hira,  is  inexplicable 
to  most  men. 

I  remember  to  have  felt  several  times  in  my  life 
undefined  foreshadowings  of  some  future  which  was 
to  befall  me;  and  just  previous  to  my  departure  from 
earth,  as  has  been  genei-ally  stated  in  the  journals  of 
the  day,  I  experienced  a  similar  sensation.  An 
awful  blank  seemed  before  me  —  a  great  chasm  into 
which  I  would  soon  be  hurled.  This  undefined 
terror  took  no  positive  shape. 

After  the  death  of  my  son  I  felt  like  one  who 
stood  upon  a  round  ball  which  rolled  from  under 
him  and  left  him  nowhere. 

The  sudden  death  of  James  IIaii)er  added  another 
shock  to  that  which  I  had  already  felt.  I  did  not 
understand  then,  thougli  I  have  since  compre- 
hended it,  that  I  was  like  some  great  tree,  rooted 
in  the  ground,  which  could  not  be  dragged  from  the 
earth  in  which  it  w^as  buried  until  it  had  received 
some  sudden  blow  to  loosen  its  hold  and  make  its 
grip  less  tenacious. 

But  in  the  very  midst  of  these  feelings  I  sought 
the  society  of  friends,  and  endeavored  around  the 
social  board  to  exhilarate  my  senses  and  drown  these 
undesirable  fancies. 

Life  seemed  more  secure  among  friends,  but  death 


TO  THE  NEW  YORK  PUBLIC.  11 

was  not  to  be  dodged.  It  caiiglit  me  unarmed  and 
alone  at  midnight  in  the  veiy  doorway  of  my 
lionse. 

I  had  crossed  the  threshold,  and  rememl)er  trying 
to  find  the  stairs  and  being  seized  with  a  dizziness. 
The  place  seemed  to  spin  around  and  I  felt  that  I 
was  falling.  Next,  a  great  weight  seemed  to  press 
me  down  like  some  horrid  nightmare.  I  endeavored 
to  groan,  to  cry  out  and  struggle  from  under  it,  but 
it  held  me  fast.  After  this  I  seemed  to  be  falling 
backward  through  a  blackness  —  an  inky  blackness. 
It  came  close  to  me,  and  pressed  close  upon  my  lips 
and  my  eyes.    It  smothered  me  ;  I  could  not  breathe. 

Then  ensued  a  struggle  within  me  such  as  Lazarus 
micrht  have  felt  when  he  endeavored  to  break  tlirouo-h 
his  grave  cerements.  It  was  frightful,  that  effort  for 
mastery ! 

I  understand  it  now.  It  was  the  soul  fighting  its 
way  into  birth  as  a  spiritual  being,  like  a  child  fight- 
ina:  its  way  out  of  its  mother's  womb. 

I  remember  feeling  faint  and  confused  after  that, 
like  one  who  has  long  been  deprived  of  food.  An  un- 
consciousness stole  over  me  for  a  moment,  from  which 
I  was  awakened  by  a  sudden  burst  of  light.  I  seemed 
to  open  my  eyes  upon  some  glorious  morning.  I  felt 
an  arm  around  me ;  I  turned  and  met  the  smiling 
face  of  my  son.  I  thought  myself  in  a  di-eam,  and 
yet  I  was  filled  with  awe. 

I  had  a  consciousness  that  some  strange  trasforma- 
tion  had  taken  place.  My  son's  voice  murmured  in 
my  ear,  "  Father,  go  with  me  now."  As  he  spoke, 
his  voice  sounded  like  the  vibration  of  distant  bells. 


12  UENRT  J.  EATMOND. 

"Wlien  he  touched  me  a  fire  seemed  to  thrill  through 
my  veins.  1  felt  like  a  boy ;  a  wild,  prankish  sen- 
sation of  freedom  possessed  me.  My  body  lay  upon 
the  jrround.  I  laudied  at  it ;  I  could  have  taken  it 
and  tossed  it  in  the  air. 

"  Come,  let's  go,"  said  I ;  "  don't  stay  here." 

My  chief  desire  was  to  get  out  of  the  house.  Like 
a  boy  who  must  fly  his  kite,  out  I  would  go.  I 
feared  I  might  be  caught .  and  taken  back  if  I  did 
not  hasten,  and  moved  toward  the  door.  The  seams 
of  that  door,  which  I  had  always  thought  well  joined, 
seemed  now  to  stand  twelve  inches  or  more  apart. 
Every  atom  of  that  wood  which  had  appeared  so  solid 
to  me  was  now  more  porous  than  any  sponge  or 
honey-comb.  Out  we  went  through  the  cre\'ice.  A 
party  of  men  -were  standing  upon  the  doorsteps. 
One  put  forth  his  hand  to  grasp  mine.  I  laughed 
aloud  when  I  recognized  the  person  as  James  Har- 
per !  Another  was  Richmond ;  another,  one  of  niy 
associates  in  tlie  editorial  corps.  I  was  perfectly 
amazed,  and  set  up  a  hilarious  shout,  which  they 
echoed  in  great  glee.  We  started  forth,  a  convivial 
party.  The  atmosphere  hung  in  heavy  masses  around 
the  houses,  like  the  morning  mists  about  the  base  of 
a  mountain. 

"We  did  not  walk  on  the  ground ;  the  air  was  solid 
enough  to  bear  us.  I  felt  that  we  were  rising  above 
the  city.  My  senses  seemed  magnified.  The  com- 
prehension of  all  I  did  was  very  acute.  We  kept 
along  the  earth's  atmosphere  for  quite  a  distance. 

"  Let  us  sail  out,"  said  I,  at  last. 

""We  cannot  yet;  we  must  wait  till  we  reach  the 


TO  THE  NEW  YOUK  PUBLIC.  13 

current.  If  we  go  outside  of  that,  we  maybe  lost  in 
the  intense  cold  and  the  poisonous  gases,  or  we  may- 
be swallowed  up  in  the  vortex  of  some  flaming 
comet,"  answered  my  wise  companions. 

The  statement  looked  very  reasonable,  so  I  allowed 
myself  to  be  guided  and  we  soon  fomid  ourselves  in 
a  great  belt  of  light  of  a  pale  rose-color,  in  which  we 
sailed  seemingly  without  any  effort,  moving  the 
hands  and  arms  at  times  and  at  other  times  folding 
them  across  our  breasts. 

As  we  advanced  the  channel  in  which  we  moved 
increased  in  depth  and  brilliancy  of  color,  and  I  grew 
more  and  more  exhilarated.  Finally  we  paused  and 
commenced  to  descend.  The  air  was  very  luminous, 
radiating  and  scintillating  like  the  flashing  of  dia- 
monds, and  so  electric  that  the  concussion  of  sound 
vibrated  like  the  peal  from  some  distant  organ. 

Looldng  down  through  the  glittering  atmosphere 
that  surrounded  me,  I  perceived  what  appeared  to 
be  the  uplifting  peak  of  a  mountain.  A  halo  of  light 
rested  upon  its  summit,  and  we  seemed  drawn  toward 
it  with  a  gentle  force. 

This  mountain,  I  was  informed,  was  one  of  a  mag- 
netic chain  which  belts  the  spirit  world.  In  color 
and  material  it  was  like  an  opal. 

I  was  told  that  a  peculiar  sympathy  existed  be- 
tween it  and  the  human  spirit.  When  individuals 
on  earth  are  in  juxtaposition  with  this  mountain  they 
feel  a  strange  yearning  for  the  spirit  home. 

Now  then  the  mysterious  riddle  is  solved,  thought 
I ;  and  this  must  be  the  spiritual  north  pole ! 

We  soon  stood  upon  terra-firma,  if  these  translu- 

2  ' 


1 4  JIENR  Y  J.  RA  YMOND. 

cent  rocks  could  be  called  terra-firiiia,  wliicli  rose  in 
glittering  and  polished  peaks  all  around  us.  They 
were  wonderfully  iridescent,  so  that  no  bed  of  gor- 
geously-colored flowers  coidd  have  filled  the  eye  with 
a  greater  variety  of  tints. 

A  few  steps  around  a  projecting  bluff  brought  us 
within  sight  of  what  appeared  to  nie  a  niagnilicent 
palace  of  alabaster.  This  palace  1  soon  learned  was 
a  hotel,  or  place  of  resort  for  travellers. 

In  ascending  its  polished  steps  I  was  met  by  some 
half  dcv.en  persons  whom  I  had  known.  You  may 
be  sure  a  wonderful  handshaking  ensued.  We  re- 
mained here  but  a  few  moments,  partook  of  refresh- 
ments, and  then  proceeded  to  the  court-yard,  where  I 
was  told  a  car  awaited  to  carry  us  to  our  destination. 

The  car  seemed  to  be  a  frame-work,  apparently 
of  silver  wire.  We  now  comfortably  seated  our- 
selves, when  two  large  wings  struck  out  from  it  like 
those  of  some  great  condor.  We  moved  rapidly 
over  the  acclivity.  This  is  a  new  way  of  crossing 
the  mountains,  thought  I ;  I  will  have  to  introduce 
it  in  the  Sierra  Nevada  and  Colorados. 

I  inquired  how  the  machine  was  propelled,  and 
was  informed,  "  Simply  by  a  chemical  arrangement 
similar  to  your  galvanic  battery." 

You  may  conceive  my  astonishment  when  we  de- 
scended into  a  park  of  a  vast  city. 

"  My  God ! "  exclaimed  I,  "  it  cannot  be  that  I  am 
in  the  spirit  world !  Why,  look  at  the  houses  and 
churches,  and  temples!  ^Vliat  magnificent  build- 
ings ! "  But  I  must  say  the  material  alone  struck  me 
as  something  sublime  and  unearthly.     So  transparent 


TO  THE  NEW  YORK  PUBLIC.  15 

and  rich  in  color,  reflecting  liglit  as  if  through  a  veil 
or  mist !  "  This  caps  all,"  said  I,  as  doctors  and  law- 
yers, artists  and  authors,  whom  I  had  known,  stepped 
up  to  greet  me,  smiling  and  full  of  life.  "  Why,  how 
is  this?"  "Is  this  you?"  "Where  did  you  come 
from?"  Questions  like  these  came  from  all  sides. 
Francis  and  Brady,  Willis,  Morris,  and  a  host  of  New 
Yorkers  who  had  slipped  out  of  sight  and  almost  out 
of  mind,  now  gathered  around  me  as  if  by  miracle. 
I  rubbed  my  eyes  in  wonder.  Spying  Brown,  I  cried 
out,  "  Why,  how  is  this,  Brown  ?  It  can't  be  that  I 
am  in  heaven!  Do  you  have  such  things  here? 
Houses,  stores,  and  works  of  art  on  every  side  ? " 
"  Yes ;  people  must  live,"  said  he,  "  wherever  they 

be." 

"  And  are  men  here  the  same,  with  all  their  facul- 
ties ? "  I  asked. 

"Yes;   why  not?     Have   you  any  you'd  like   to 

lose?" 

I  shook  my  head  and  walked  on  absorbed  in 
thought.  And  are  all  our  paraphernalia  for  funerals, 
our  solemn  black,  and  our  long  prayers  but  useless 
ceremonies  ?  Wliy,  according  to  this,  the  behef s  of 
the  Chinese,  Hottentot,  African,  and  Indian  are 
nearer  the  truth  than  our  civilized  creeds ! 

I  find  that  there  are  few  things  in  which  society 
in  this  world  so  much  differs  from  that  of  earth 
as  in  its  social  and  political  arrangements. 

All  the  great  system  of  living  for  appearances,  and 
the  habit  of  self-deception  whereby  men  hve  out- 
wardly what  their  secret  lives  disavow,  are  here 
entirely  done  away  with. 


IG  UENRY  J.  RAYMOND. 

In  tlie  iirst  place  tlio  marriage  relations  differ 
materially  from  those  of  earth,  and  no  false  sentiment 
nor  custom,  nor  religious  belief,  holds  together  as 
companions  those  who  are  dissimilar  in  their  nature. 
Neither  do  men  crucify  their  tastes  and  feelinjrs 
fi-om  a  mistaken  idea  of  duty. 

The  miseries  and  disasters  which  are  attendant  on 
a  life  on  earth  they  view  as  a  parent  would  view  the 
whooping-cough  or  scarlatina  which  afflict  the  body 
of  his  child — as  necessary  steps  toward  his  growth 
and  progress  from  youth  to  manhood. 

A  remarkable  instance  of  this  came  under  my 
own  observation.  You  remember  that  the  singular 
and  sudden  death  of  Abraham  Lincoln  was  a  matter 
of  surprise  to  us.  We  could  not  see  the  purpose  of 
an  all-wise  Providence  in  this  sudden  closing  of  an 
eventful  career.  It  was  discussed  in  every  news- 
paper in  the  land,  and  the  conclusion  was  that  the 
Creator  had  some  special  purpose  in  his  removal,  and 
this  we  all  l)clieved. 

But  here  the  enigma  is  solved. 

Standing  face  to  face  and  walking  side  by  side, 
as  I  have  done  for  the  last  few  days  with  this  man, 
raised  as  some  suppose  for  the  special  purpose  of 
freeing  the  slave — a  martyr  for  principle — T  find  that 
he  enjoys  as  a  good  joke,  this  martyrdom,  and  I  have 
also  ascertained  the  solemn  fact  that  he  was  removed, 
not  by  God,  but  by  spirit  politicians,  God's  agents. 

And  the  state  of  the  case  is  this:  the  Southern 
rebels,  hot-blooded  and  revengeful,  who  were  arriv- 
ing daily  by  scores  and  hundreds,  in  the  S23irit  world, 
finding  their  cause  discomfited  and  worsted,  became 


TO  THE  NEW  YORK  PUBLIC.  17 

mntinoiis.  Tliev  were  too  raw  and  new  to  fall  into 
the  harmony  of  the  spirit  life,  and  they  threatened 
a  second  war  in  Heaven ;  a  war  which  those  young 
Lucifers  would  have  waged  with  terrific  power. 

To  quell  this  disturbance  and  produce  a  counterac- 
tion, it  was  necessary  that  one  whom  they  looked  upon 
as  the  great  leader  of  the  Northern  cohorts  should 
be  withdrawn  from  the  post  which  he  occupied. 

A  man  of  calm,  dispassionate  judgment,  not 
vindictive,  who  could  hold  the  reins  with  a  firm  hand, 
yet  look  with  a  lenient  eye  ou  the  follies  vchich  he 
did  not  share,  was  needed  in  the  spirit  world,  and 
that  man  was  Al^raham  Lincoln. 

AVTien  those  young  Southern  bloods  had  conspired 
with  their  co-patriot  to  his  dovrafall,  had  instigated 
and  accomplished  his  assassination,  and  when  he 
appeared  in  their  midst,  the  simple,  unaffected, 
uncrafty  man  that  he  was,  a  revulsion  of  feeling 
immediately  took  place. 

The  liberal  party  in  the  spirit  world,  friends  to 
humanity  and  progress,  could  have  prevented  his 
removal  had  they  wished ;  but  not  desiring  to  do 
so,  they  prepared  his  mind  by  dreams  and  visions 
for  what  Vv'as  about  to  take  place. 

For  a  short  time  in  the  spirit  world  he  held  the 
position  of  Pacificator  and  cliief  ruler  over  that 
portion  of  the  American  spirit  world  represented  by 
the  ISTorth  and  South. 

But  after  averting  this  peril,  which  would  have 
involved  the  States  in  anarchy  and  war  such  as  they 
had  not  yet  experienced,  he  retired  to  private  life. 

Another  instance,  proving  that  the  inhabitants  of 


18  HENRY  J.  liAYMOND. 

the  spirit  world,  like  their  great  prototype,  the  Crea- 
tor, do  not  look  at  immediate  distress,  but  at  tlie 
advantages  that  may  accnie  therefrom,  presents 
itself  in  my  removal  from  the  sphere  in  -which  I 
had  probably  worked  out  all  that  would  be  useful 
to  humanity. 

Like  a  charge  cVaJfaires  called  back  to  Washing- 
ton because  he  can  fill  a  better  post,  so  I,  through 
the  solicitations  of  relatives  and  fellow-citizens  who 
have  preceded  me  to  this  new  world,  was  called 
here  for  the  purpose  of  editing  a  journal  and  assist- 
ins:  in  amelioratino:  the  condition  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Southern  States,  and  also  to  use  my  influence 
in  the  Congress  and  Senate  at  "Washington  toward 
producing  a  better  comprehension  of  their  needs. 

I  have  one  thing  to  say  to  my  brother  journalist, 
Horace  Greeley,  and  that  is  that  the  Utopian  ideas 
which  have  for  so  many  years  formed  the  principal 
topic  of  his  radical  sheet  are  here  put  in  operation. 

Each  one  seems  desirous  of  cooperating  with  his 
neighbor,  and  people  of  like  tastes  and  feelings  asso- 
ciate too-ether  and  live  in  vast  communities  or  cities. 
They  do  not  settle  down  to  one  routine,  as  they  do 
with  you.  The  cost  of  travelling  depending  chiefly 
on  the  will  and  energy  of  the  individual,  the  inhabi- 
tants are  ever  in  motion,  ever  ready  for  a  change,  if 
wisdom  or  pleasure  should  dictate  it.  The  condition 
of  the  connnon  peo})le  is  vastly  iinproved,  and 
America  has  been  the  chief  agent  in  placing  the 
lower  classes  in  a  condition  which  adapts  them  to  a 
higher  spiritualized  life.  I  say  lower  classes,  because 
under  the  system  of  monai'chical  governments,  the 


TO  THE  NEW  YORK  PUBLIC.  19 

peasants  and  laborers  of  Europe  have  been  kept  in  a 
state  of  besotted  ignorance,  developing  chiefly  in  the 
animal  propensities,  and  not  fitting  themselves  for  the 
higher  enjoyments  of  the  spirit  life. 

Finding  that  the  spirit  world  was  likely  to  be 
overrun  by  this  class  of  ignorant  and  superstitious 
people,  its  wise  rulers  have  instigated  the  legislators 
of  the  United  States  to  provide  means  for  the  educa- 
tion  and   development  of    these   lower   classes   of 

societv. 

It  is  only  by  assimilating  with  those  of  a  higher 
intellectual  development  that  the  ignorant  become 
enlightened,  and  America,  in  thrcrvring  down  all  bar- 
riers to  political  and  social  advancement,  has  been  the 
chief  instrument  of  lifting  the  great  mass  of  human- 
ity to  a  position  of  power  in  the  spirit  vv'orld ;  still 
there  are  crowds  of  beings,  ignorant  and  superstitious, 
who  enter  the  spirit  world,  and  their  intellects  can  only 
be  unfolded  by  the  labor  and  guidance  of  some  mas- 
ter mind. 

I  was  surprised  to  find  that  physical  labor  here,  as 
on  earth,  was  one  of  the  chief  means  employed  to 
assist  in  mental  growth;  and  I  found  swarms  of 
English,  Irish,  and  German  people  happily  at  work, 
cultivating  the  land  and  erecting  houses  for  them- 
selves and  otliers,  and  assisting  in  the  great  machinery 
of  life,  which  here,  as  in  the  other  world,  revolves 
its  constant  round. 

I  had  nearly  forgotten  to  mention  that  since  leav- 
ing your  world  I  returned  on  one  occasion  to  attend 
a  seance,  as  it  is  termed,  for  physical  manifestations, 
and  had  the  pleasure  of   seeing  how  om-  chemists 


20  HENRY  J.  RAYMOND. 

combine  from  the  elements  the  semblance  of  the  liii- 
}n;ui  form.  I  liad  been  interested  Avlien  on  eartli  in 
an  experiment  recently  made  by  scientific  men, 
whereby,  throngh  a  peculiar  combination  of  metals,  a 
flame  is  caused  to  assume  the  shapes  of  flowers,  leaves, 
fishes,  and  reptiles,  apparently  developed  from  the 
air,  and  I  discovered  an  intelligent  solution  of  the 
remarkable  experiment  in  the  manifestations  I  wit- 
nessed at  this  seance. 

It  appears  that  every  particle  in  nature  throws  off 
a  gaseous  emanation,  partaking  of  its  particular 
shape.  These  gaseous  particles  are  not  discernible 
with  the  material  eye,  excepting  when  by  chance  they 
coalesce,  and  then  a  phosphorescent  light  ensues, 
which  renders  them  apparent. 

A  similar  effect  to  this  is  seen  in  electricity,  which 
lies  latent  and  viewless  till  by  a  sudden  coalescing 
of  its  parts  it  manifests  itself  in  zigzag  lines  and 
flashes  of  light  which  illuminate  the  heavens. 

Now  certain  material  bodies  have  the  power  of 
drawing  those  atoms  in  close  affinity,  and  when  they 
are  thus  drawn,  the  shapes  alluded  to  are  clearly  dis- 
cernible by  the  human  eye. 

I  discovered  another  fact,  and  that  is  that  ever}'' 
human  being  emits  a  light,  and  in  tlie  case  of  those 
called  "  mediums,"  it  is  intense  like  the  Drummond 
light,  and  a  spirit  standing  in  its  rays  will  become 
visible  to  mortal  sii^-ht. 

These  experiments  interested  me  highly,  as  they 
had  been  heretofore  inexplicable  to  my  mind. 

Ajproj^os  of  the  topics  of  to-day,  I  must  here  relate 
what  I  have  heard  of  the  "  Lord  Byron  scandal," 


TO   THE  NEW  TORE  PUBLIC.  21 

which  is  creating  so  marked  a  sensation  at  present. 
I  am  told  by  BjTon  and  others  that  Lady  Byron, 
recently  arri^■ing  in  the  spirit  world  and  finding  mat- 
ters very  different  from  what  she  had  expected,  and 
that  she  was  received  nowhere  as  the  wife  of  Lord 
Byron  (who  having  resided  there  some  thirty  years 
had  formed  a  new  and  happy  alliance),  was  stung 
with  jealousy  and  vexation  and  hastened  to  inspire 
Mrs.  Stowe  to  repeat  the  story  which  had  become  a 
matter  of  faith  with  her,  hoping  thereby  to  inflict  a 
punishment  on  Byron,  who  ignored  his  relation  to 
her. 

If  she  had  waited  until  she  had  resided  a  little 
longer  in  spirit  life  she  would  not  have  pursued  so 
foolish  a  course.  But  I  must  bring  this  long  letter 
to  a  close,  assuring  my  friends  that  I  have  the  pros- 
pect of  as  active  a  life  before  me  as  the  one  I  have 
just  closed  on  earth. 


MAHGARET   FULLER. 


LITERATURE    hV  SPIRIT  LIFE. 


To  a  miud  familiar  -svitli  tlie  literature  of  the 
ancient  Greeks  and  Romans,  which  has  studied  the 
Scandinavian  Edda,  and  is  intimate  Avith  the  more 
modern  German,  French,  and  English  authors,  the 
literature  of  the  spirit  world  opens  up  a  mine  of  in- 
terminable wealth. 

The  libraries  in  this  world  are  vast  catacombs  or 
repositories  of  buried  knowledge.  Here  are  found 
histories  of  decayed  races,  dynasties,  and  nations 
which  have  vanished  from  earth,  leaving  scarce  a 
monument  of  their  progress  in  art,  science,  and  men- 
tal culture.  Li  these  libraries  the  student  of  history 
will  find  the  exploits  of  ancient  peoples  recorded, 
and  a  description  of  their  cities,  with  the  temples  and 
towers  which  they  built  and  the  colossal  images 
which  they  created. 

I  own  to  the  surprise  which  I  experienced  when  I 
discovered  that  printed  books  were  a  part  of  the 
treasures  of  the  spirit  world.  But  the  scholar  will 
rejoice  as  I  did  to  find  the  literary  productions  of  re- 
motest ages  garnered  in  the  spacious  halls  of  science 

that  adoni  our  cities. 

(23) 


LITERA  7  URE  IN  SPIRIT  LIFE.  23 

It  is  a  principle  of  being — a  condition  of  immor- 
tality— as  inseparable  from  spirit  existence  as  from 
earth  life,  that  thought  should  express  itself  in 
external  forms.  Even  the  Great  Spirit,  the  Creator 
of  all,  gives  shape  to  his  thoughts  in  the  formation 
of  trees,  flowers,  men,  beasts,  and  myriad  worlds 
with  their  constant  motion,  their  sound  and  song. 

It  has  been  aptly  said  that  the  "  stars  are  the 
poetry  of  God."  He,  the  Great  Spirit  of  all,  writes 
his  thoughts  legibly  ;  and  so  man,  like  his  originator, 
whether  living  in  the  natural  body  or  existing  as  a 
spirit,  gives  outward  shape  to  his  ideas  ;  hence  books 
become  a  necessity  of  spirit  existence,  and  the  writers 
from  earth  have  still  a  desire  to  perpetuate  their 
thoughts. 

Oral  communication  is  too  evanescent,  and  there- 
fore the  dear  old  books  still  find  a  place  in  the 
spheres. 

There  are  various  modes  of  making  these  volumes, 
and  the  writer  may  become  his  own  printer. 

Some  authors  prefer  to  dictate,  and  a  little  instru- 
ment marks  off  the  variations  of  sound  which  make 
the  word,  and  thus,  as  he  speaks,  the  word  is  im- 
pressed on  the  sheet. 

Others,  if  the  thought  be  clear  and  distinct  enough, 
and  the  will  sufficiently  under  abeyance,  act  through 
the  mind  upon  a  conductor,  w^iich  dots  down  the 
thought  in  a  manner  somewhat  similar  to  telegraphic 
printing. 

The  material  used  to  receive  the  impression  is  of  a 
soft,  vellum-like  nature,  which  can  be  folded  up  in 
any  manner  without  destroying  its  form ;  it  is  very 


'24  M^VRGARET  FULLER. 

light  and  tliiii,  l)ut  opaque,  like  the  creamy  petals  of 
a  lily. 

The  phonetic  alphabet  is  used  extensively,  though 
■\\o  lia\t'  many  books  printed  in  the  mode  usually 
adopted  on  earth. 

All  nature  is  constantly  clianging  and  progressing. 
The  bards  who  sang  upon  the  earth  (centuries  ago — 
Homer,  Yirgil,  tlie  Greek  and  Roman,  the  Celtic  and 
Saxon  writers  of  old — have  passed  beyond  the  spirit 
sphere  which  I  inhabit  to  a  spirit  planet  still  more 
refined,  and  have  left  behind  only  the  records  of 
their  strange  experience. 

The  eighteenth  century  cannot  walk  side  by  side 
with  the  third  or  fourth  century  more  readily  in  the 
spirit  world  than  on  earth. 

The  character  of  the  spirit  literature  of  the  present 
day  is  essentially  scientific  and  exploitative.  We 
have  in  our  world,  as  you  liave  in  yours,  intrepid 
travellers  —  learned  men,  wlio  make  voyages  to  almost 
inaccessible  planets  —  and  they  return  even  as  those 
of  earth,  with  sketches  and  graphic  outlines  of  the 
strange  sights  they  have  witnessed ;  and  those  less 
venturesome  who  remain  at  home  are  as  anxious  as 
your  citizens  might  be  to  hear  accounts  of  wonderful 
regions  that  have  been  visited.  And  such  books  of 
travel  are  sought  eagerly. 

We  have  but  few  works  on  theology ;  the  nature 
and  essence  of  God  is  discussed  witli  us,  but  not  so 
elal)orately  as  with  you. 

Spirits  who  have  passed  into  a  second  life  have  so 
nearly  approached  the  mystery  of  a  Divine  Being 
that  they  do  not  desire  to  debate  the  subject. 


LITERATURE  IN  SPIRIT  LIFE.  25 

A  large  proportion  of  our  writers  are  devoted  to 
what  you  would  here  term  transcendental  thought,  a 
kind  of  literature  which  lies  between  poetry  and 
music,  which  awakens  a  feeling  of  ecstacy,  and  gives, 
as  it  were,  wings  to  the  soul. 

The  poets  who  sang  upon  earth  dviring  the  last 
century,  of  whom  Shelly,  Keats,  and  Byron  are  an 
English  type,  and  Ilalleck,  Pierrepont,  Dana,  and 
Willis  the  American  representatives,  are  among  the 
most  inspired  and  far-reaching  of  our  present  writers 
of  poetry  and  song. 

Our  literature  has  one  great  advantage  over  that 
of  earth,  in  that  our  separate  nationalities  become 
merged  in  one  o-rand  unit.  We  do  not  need  trans- 
lators,  as  we  have  adopted  a  universal  written  lan- 
guage. There  are  some  writers  who  still  retain,  as  I 
have  said,  the  modes  adopted  on  earth,  but  those  who 
have  been  resident  any  length  of  time  in  the  spirit 
sphere  employ  the  plan  of  writing  by  signs,  which 
are  understood  and  acknowledged  by  every  nation- 
ality. / 

I  should  like,  in  closing,  to  introduce  an  extract 
from  an  old  volume  which  I  found  in  a  library  in 
the  city  of  Spring  Garden. 

It  was  written  by  Addison  during  his  sojourn  in 
that  city,  in  the  year  1720,  and  is  in  the  form  of  a 
letter,  supposed  to  be  written  to  a  friend  on  earth. 
In  it  he  essays  to  portray  the  expansion  of  mind  he 
has  experienced  in  his  new  home  through  the  mag- 
netic influence  of  thought-language  : 

"  Behold  the  far-off  luminary  suspended  millions 
and  billions  and  trillions  of  miles  in  space;  then 
3 


26  MARGAIIET  FULLER 

tiiru  the  eye  yonder  and  see  tliat  infinitesimal  point 
of  vegetation,  eartli — a  speck,  countless  multitudes 
of  which  heaped  and  piled  together  would  form  but 
a  point  compared  with  that  majestic  sun ! 

"  Yet  behold  it  move  and  expand  beneath  the  long 
fibrous  rays  which  that  effulgent  orb  sends  down 
through  so  many  billions  of  miles  to  the  place  of  its 
minute  existence.  Even  as  that  poor  little  existence 
shoots  out  its  fibres  to  meet  those  rays  which  have 
travelled  such  great  lengths,  so  a  spirit  in  the  spheres 
feels  the  quickening,  effulgent  rays  thrown  out  by 
the  brain  of  some  prophet  or  poet  existing  millions 
and  billions  and  trillions  of  miles  away  on  some 
distant  spirit  planet,  and  his  thought  expands  and 
enlarges  beneath  the  warming  action  of  that  far-off 
brain,  mitil  it  assumes  a  shape  and  form  which  its 
own  emulation  never  prophesied." 


BYROK 


TO  HIS  ACCUSERS. 


My  soul  is  sick  of  calumny  and  lies: 
Men  gloat  on  evil — even  woman's  hand 
WUl  dabble  in  the  mire,  nor  heed  the  cries 
Of  the  poor  victim  whom  she  seeks  to  brand 
In  thy  sweet  name,  Religion,  through  the  land ! 
Like  the  keen  tempest  she  doth  strip  her  prey, 
Tossing  htm  bare  and  wrecked  upon  the  strand, 
While  vaunting  her  misdeeds  before  the  day, 
Rearing  a  monument  which  crumbles  like  the  clay. 

II. 

My  sister,  have  I  lived  to  see  thy  name 
Dishonored  ?  Thou,  who  wast  my  pride,  my  stay ; 
Shall  Jealousy  and  Fraud  thy  love  defame 
And  I  be  dumb  ?     Just  Heaven,  let  a  ray 
From  thy  majestic  light  iUume  earth's  clay,* 
That  through  her  I  may  scorch  the  slander  vile, 
And  light  throughout  the  land  a  torch  to-day, 
Which  shall  reveal  how  false  and  fuU  of  guile 
Are  they  who  seek  thy  name,  Augusta,  to  defile. 

in. 

She  who  has  borne  my  title  and  my  name, 
In  deeds  fraternal  saw  some  monster  crime ; 
To  her  base  level  sought  my  heart  to  tame, 
Made  mock  of  each  aspiring  thought  sublime, 
And  sought  to  bury  me  beneath  the  slime 

*  The  Clairvoyant. 

(37) 


28  LORD  nritON. 

Of  her  imaginings.     All —  all  are  gone 
AMio  could  ilefend  me.     From  the  grave  of  time 
I  am  uneartliM  —  by  sland'rous  miscreants  torn, 
And  ri.se  to  feel  again  the  ills  I  once  have  home. 

rv. 

Is  this  a  Christian  deed,  to  flaunt  a  Aace, 
And  with  another's  failings  gild  yoiir  own  ? 
To  hearken  to  the  whisperings  and  device 
Of  old  age,  selfish,  to  suspicion  grown  ? 
To  misconstnie  eiach  friendly  look  —  each  tone  — 
And  out  of  natural  love  create  vile  lu.st  ? 
Must  brother's  heart  his  very  kin  disown, 
"\Miile  mdest  hand  disturbs  her  mouldering  dust  ? 
Is  this  a  Christian  deed  ?     Shall  mankind  call  it  just  ? 


Bat  let  that  pas.s.     I  hear  a  nation's  voice 
Raised  to  defend  the  absent,  wronged  child ; 
My  hopes  and  aims  were  high,  albeit  my  choice 
Was  fixed  on  one  who  felt  not  for  my  wild 
And  wayward  nature ;  one  who  never  smiled 
On  imperfection.     From  my  home  of  light 
Unscathed,  I  see  life's  black'ning  billows  piled, 
Ready  to  sweep  the  daring  soul  from  sight, 
Sinking  his  name  and  memory  in  darkest  night. 

VI. 

I  rise  again  above  the  woes  of  earth, 
Like  unchaiued  bird,  seeldng  my  native  air. 
Men  seldom  see  their  fellow-creatures'  worth, 
But  blot  sweet  nature's  page,  however  fair. 
Away,  my  soid,  and  seek  thy  nobler  state. 
Where  loving  angels  breathe  their  softest  prayer. 
Where  sweetest  seraphs  for  thy  coming  wait, 
And  ne'er  suspicion's  breath  can  pass  the  Golden  Gate. 


NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE. 


APPARITIONS. 


Eetuenestg  one  evening  from  a  visit  to  a  friend  on. 
earth,  I  was  impelled  to  take  a  route  with  which  I 
was  unfamiliar.  It  led  me  far  beyond  the  habitations 
of  the  city,  into  an  open  country  whose  surface  was 
diversified  ]:)y  sloping  hills  and  broad  valleys. 

The  sun  was  quite  low  in  the  horizon,  and  dark 
purple  clouds,  gathering  in  the  west,  indicated  an  ap- 
proaching storm.  Anxious  to  reach  my  spirit-home 
before  such  an  event,  I  was  nevertheless  compelled  to 
keep  within  the  earth's  atmosphere. 

The  aspect  of  the  country  became  more  uneven  as 
I  advanced,  and  the  disappearing  sun  threw  out  the 
hills  in  cold  blue  relief  against  the  evening  sky.  One 
peak  to  the  northward  stood  high  and  isolated  from 
the  surrounding  hills,  and  was  crowned  by  a  spacious 
dwelling  house;  the  high  peaked  roof  and  dark 
gloomy  color  of  its  exterior  comported  strangely  with 
the  landscape. 

To  this  buildino-  an  unseen  influence  drew  me. 
As  I  approached  nearer  I  discovered  the  figure  of  a 
man  walking  with  restless  step  upon  the  piazza  which 
surrounded  the  dwelling.  At  times  he  would  sus- 
pend his  walk,  and  crouch,  shuddering  as  with  fear, 
against  the  shadowed  balustrade.  His  face  was  of 
o*  (39) 


30  NATHANIEL  nAWTIIOnNE. 

ashy  paleness,  and  his  liair.  hhiek  as  night,  fell  in  neg- 
lected masses  around  his  head.  His  eyes  were  bright 
and  ghissy,  and  their  expression  f riglitful  to  look  upon. 

Unconscious  of  ray  proximity,  he  arose  from  his 
crouching  position,  stood  for  a  moment  irresolute, 
and  tlicn  walked  up  to  the  heavy  oaken  door  and 
knocked. 

Presently  the  door  was  opened  l)y  a  lady ;  she  looked 
out,  but  could  see  no  one.  "It  must  have  been  the 
■vvind,"  said  slie,  shuddering  slightly,  and  drawing  her 
shawl  closely  around  her,  was  about  to  close  the  door. 
But  before  she  could  accomplish  her  purpose  the 
unseen  guest  had  entered,  with  myself  following  closely 
behind,  hoping  to  give  comfort  where  it  appeared 
most  sorely  needed. 

Up  a  broad  staircase  he  ascended  and  at  a  cham- 
ber door  he  paused  —  then  entered.  I  followed.  His 
presence  seemed  to  cause  the  very  furniture  to  shake 
and  rattle. 

"  Here,"  thought  I, "  I  will  solve  the  enigma.  Ilej'e, 
without  doubt,  has  occurred  some  grand  disturbance 
of  nature.  Tlic  walls  of  this  apartment,  its  casements, 
its  decorations,  have  been  witness  to  some  fell  crime. 
The  spectre  of  evil  impresses  itself  upon  matter." 

While  reflecting  upon  this  wonderful  law,  which 
all  my  life  T  had  perceived  dimly,  I  observed  with 
care  the  evidently  unhappy  man.  A  bedstead  of 
rich  workuianship  occupied  one  side  of  the  apartment. 
Rushing  toward  it  he  burst  forth  in  a  cry  of  frenzy, 
swaying  his  hands  fearfully  and  ejaculating  and 
groaning  in  most  piteous  accents. 

At  this  juncture  steps  were  heard  outside  ascending 


APPARITIONS.  31 

the  stairs,  and  several  members  of  the  household  en- 
tered, bearing  lights.  They  looked  about  the  room, 
at  first  timidly;  then,  gathering  courage,  peered  under 
the  bed,  opened  closets,  and  scrutinized  every  nook 
and  corner  of  the  apartment.  Foiled  in  their  efforts 
to  discover  the  inmate  they  turned  to  each  other  with 
amazement. 

"I  am  positive  the  sounds  came  from  this  room," 
said  one.  "  There  is  no  one  to  be  seen  here,"  replied 
another ;  "  what  can  it  mean  ? " 

The  culprit  stood  in  the  corner,  gesticulating  vio- 
lently, but  they  with  their  mortal  eyes  could  not  see 
him.  They  passed  close  to  him,  but  their  lighted 
candles  could  not  reveal  the  shadowless ! 

Having  satisfied  themselves  that  the  room  was 
tenantless,  they  departed.  Then  I  approached  the 
unhappy  wretch : 

"Friend,"  said  I,  "let  me  aid  you."  Unbrn-den 
your  woe  to  me;  I  too  have  suffered  and  am  not 
without  sin." 

Casting  his  eyes  upon  me  now  for  the  first  time, 
the  man  scowled  with  dogged  suUenness,  and  said : 

"  I  want  no  help." 

"Kay,"  said  I,  " your  looks  belie  your  words ;  come, 
go  with  me  to  ray  quiet  cottage ;  there  you  shall  re- 
fresh yourself ;  you  shall  sleep  to-night  in  peace." 

"  Peace ! "  he  repeated  scornfully.  "  I  know  no 
peace ;  nor  can  I  leave  this  spot  till  every  eye  beholds 
the  horrid  deed  that  I  committed  here." 

"  Friend,"  said  I,  "  tell  me  the  nature  of  your  crime ; 
reveal  to  me  your  secret  and  your  heart  will  be 
lighter  for  it." 


32  NATUANIEL  UA  WTUORNE. 

"  Ila !  lia  I "  lie  answered,  his  voice  flying  away  in  a 
low  wail.  '•  Look  upon  that  wall  opposite  the  bed  ;  it 
will  speak  better  than  I  can."  I  looked,  and  beheld 
a  faint  photograph  oi-  impression  of  the  couch,  with 
its  handsome  drapery.  Upon  it  reclined  the  figure 
of  a  female,  and  bending  over  her  appeared  the  form 
of  a  man,  whose  livid  face  and  black,  disordered  hair 
I  recognized  as  an  unmistakable  reflection  of  the  un- 
fortunate man  before  me. 

"You  see  that  'the  very  stones  cry  out  against 
me,'"  said  he.  "Every  night  for  two  years  have  I 
enacted  that  same  scene,  a) id  I  am  held  bv  some  un- 
seen  influence  to  this  baneful  spot." 

"Tell  me  your  story,"  said  I;  "hide  nothing  —  I 
am  your  fi-iend." 

He  ran  his  thin  fin^-ers  throuifh  his  tangled  hair, 
and  with  a  voice  husky  with  emotion  answered : 

"  I  will  tell  you.  Some  years  ago,  when  a  young 
man,  haughty  and  passionate,  I  had  the  misfortune  to 
love  a  girl  whose  youth  and  beauty  proved  my  bane, 
and  in  a  moment  of  recklessness  I  married  her.  In  her 
nature  were  mingled  the  qualities  of  the  serpent  and 
the  dove.  She  was  my  inferior,  and  I  could  not  own 
her  outwardly  nor  inwardly  as  my  Avife;  l)ut,  uidiap- 
pily  for  the  peace  of  both,  I  could  not  rid  myself  of 
her.  I  gave  her  money,  but  it  availed  not;  she  was 
ignorant,  and  persisted  in  following  me."  Here  the 
man  looked  around  with  a  nervous  air,  as  if  he  ex- 
pected to  see  the  unwelcome  face  peering  at  him 
through  the  shadows. 

"To  avoid  her,"  he  continued,  "I  secretly  pur- 
chased this  dwelling,  remote  from  the  place  of  her 


APPARITIONS.  '    33 

abode.  There  I  lived  for  a  brief  time,  bappy ;  a  new 
life  witb  loftier  purposes  dawned  upon  me ;  I  formed 
another  attachment  —  a  higher  and  more  noble  one. 

"  One  evening  as  I  was  walking  upon  the  balcony 
thinking  of  my  new-found  joys,  a  figure  came  creep- 
ing up  through  the  shrubbery  towards  me.  To  my 
amazement  it  proved  to  be  the  girl  who  claimed  me. 

"When  I  saw  her,  rage  entered  my  heart,  and  I 
felt  as  if  I  could  annihilate  her.  But,  suppressing  all 
show  of  feeling,  I  went  with  her  into  the  house,  and 
appointed  her  this  room  for  the  night.  A  demoniac 
idea  had  presented  itself  to  my  mind;  it  came  un- 
souo-ht,  but  under  the  excitement  of  the  moment  it 
seemed  like  a  good  angel  of  deliverance. 

"To  further  this  idea,  I  lay  down  beside  her. 
Presently  she  fell  into  a  light  slumber.  At  first  a 
slight  expression  of  pleasure  played  upon  her  lips, 
but  ere  long  the  fatigue  of  her  journey  overcame  her, 
and  she  slept  heavily. 

"  Then,"  said  he,  his  countenance  assuming  a  con- 
vulsive and  ghastly  aspect,  "1  arose  on  tiptoe,  and 
collecting  the  heavy  comforters  and  large  downy  pil- 
lows of  the  bed,  I  deliberately  piled  them  on  her  one 
upon  the  other,  and  pressing  them  down  with  all  my 
gathered  force,  I  stifled  her  in  her  sleep ! 

"No  cry,  no  groan  from  my  \dctim  betrayed  the  un- 
hallowed deed,  and  before  the  first  dawn  of  day  I 
was  driving  furiously  over  the  road  to  the  river's 
bank,  from  which  into  the  watery  depth  below  I 
threw  this  millstone  of  my  life. 

"When  I  drove  back  the  morning  had  dawned. 
The  daylight  seemed  to  pry  into  the  secrets  of  the 


3  i  NA  T II AN  IE L  UA  W  TnORNE. 

past  night,  I  would  fain  shun  it — the  garish  light 
disturbed  me.  Tlie  morning  sun,  which  had  ever  been 
my  delight,  seemed  now  a  mocking  imp  of  curiosity  ; 
the  house  and  grounds  looked  Inire  and  desolate;  a 
blight  had  fallen  upon  their  former  comeliness. 

"  A  stranire  fascination  ac^ain  drew  me  into  the 
chamber  which  had  been  the  scene  of  my  crime. 
When  there  I  re-enacted  the  last  night's  work.  The 
bed  and  furniture  seemed  to  come  toward  me  and 
taunt  me  with  the  fell  crime  I  had  committed.  '  I 
was  justified  in  the  act,'  said  I  to  these  dumb  accusers, 
as  though  they  had  been  living  witnesses.  '  She  was 
the  bane  of  my  existence.'  And  with  cimning  preci- 
sion I  arranged  the  disordered  room,  smoothed  the 
pillows,  and  levelled  the  coverlet.  '  The  dead  cannot 
speak,'  said  I.    'This  thing  is  hidden.' 

"After this  performance  I  went  forth,  hoping  by  a 
sharp  walk  to  drown  the  memory  of  the  momentary 
deed.  I  passed  through  the  garden  and  reached  the 
sloping  hill.  There,  where  the  low  fence  joined  the 
open  road,  I  was  met  by  the  lady  whom  I  loved. 
She  was  takin£>;  the  mornino;  air,  and  with  her  smilino- 
face  seemed  drinking  in  its  balmy  freshness. 

"'You  look  ill,'  said  she,  with  a  pitying  glance. 
'  See  what  I  have  l)rouglit  for  3'ou,'  and  she  held 
forth  a  newly-plucked  bouquet  of  flowers. 

"  I  took  the  proffered  blossoms  hurriedly,  dreading 
to  meet  her  clear  eye,  which  I  felt  nmst  surely  read 
my  guilt.  Burying  the  flowers  in  my  breast,  and  with 
an  effort  to  smile  that  sickened  me,  I  bowed  low  to  the 
ground  and  hurried  on. 

"  When  beyond  her  sight  I  drew  the  nosegay  from 


APPARITIONS.  35 

its  liidiiig  place  —  it  was  withered  as  if  scorched  by  a 
buniiui^  heat !  Upon  looking  closer  at  this  strange 
phenomena,  I  beheld,  to  my  horror,  in  dim  ontline,  the 
face  of  the  murdered !  Whence  came  the  impression  ? 
Had  my  riotous  heart  burnt  the  secret  upon  those 
blushing  petals? 

"  Frantically  I  tore  open  my  shirt,  when  lo !  npon 
my  breast  I  beheld  imprinted  a  picture  of  the  direful 
(jeed  —  seared  in  by  rays  more  potent  than  the  sun's 
—  photographed  there,  as  if  by  the  lightning's  fierce 
stroke ! 

"Presently  a  band  of  children  on  their  way  to 
school  overtook  me,  and  began  to  whisper  to  each 
other  as  they  passed.  I  saw  that  they  looked  at 
me  with  suspicion  in  their  eyes.  'They  too  can 
see  the  brand,'  thought  1 ;  '  they  are  mouthing  about 
it  now.' 

"  Urged  to  desperation,  I  plunged  into  a  thicket 
near  by.  x\mid  a  group  of  trees  in  its  centre,  one 
lifted  itself  higher  and  straighter  than  its  companions. 
Upon  its' topmost  branch,  as  I  chanced  to  lift  my  eyes, 
I  beheld  to  my  terror  the  woman  whom  I  had  sent 
into  eternity,  looking  down  upon  me  with  scoifs  and 
grimaces ! 

"  The  ghostly  apparition  wrought  me  to  frenzy.  In 
hot  haste  I  climbed  the  tree.  Its  straight,  smooth  sides, 
under  ordinary  circumstances  would  have  proved 
a  barrier  to  my  efforts,  but  in  my  excitement  they 
formed  no  obstacle.  Reaching  the  top,  I  endeavored 
to  grasp  her.  Stretching  out  my  arms  and  clasping 
frantically  the  air,  I  fell  dead  to  the  ground. 

"  Thus  was  I  born  into  the  spirit  world.     The  idea 


36  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE. 

tliat  last  possessed  nic  on  eai  tli,  first  possessed  mc  in 
the  spirit  life. 

"No  mortal  man  can  describe  the  liorror  I  experi- 
enced on  findinir  mvself  in  the  midst  of  a  boundless 
space,  face  to  face  willi  mi  no  enemy.  Iler  narrow- 
intellect  and  strong  animal  nature  seemed  to  have 
expanded,  even  as  I  have  seen  the  face  of  a  child 
expand  from  pleasing  infancy  into  idiotic  youth. 
This  animal  part  of  her  immortality  roused  my  ire  — 
struck  some  savaije  chord  in  mv  nature  —  and  I  rose 
np  like  a  wild  beast  to  attack  her;  but  the  creature 
laughed  and  jeered  at  my  vain  efforts.  She  led  me 
thus,  in  fruitless  pursuit,  further  and  further  into 
space;  inciting  me  on  by  her  taunts  and  ringing 
laugh,  until  I  found  myself  in  a  dark  and  noisome 
pit,  when  she  suddenly  vanished. 

"  Ignorant  of  the  peculiarities  of  spirit  condition,  I 
could  not  grope  my  way  out  of  this  ]:)lace,  which 
appeared  to  me  a  very  liclL  T  wandered  in  this 
gloomy  lal)yi"inth,  breathing  the  foul  air,  and  utter- 
ing fearful  cries  which  struck  my  ears  with  anguish. 
Black,  threatening  shapes  appeared  to  stand  in  the 
intricate  windings  of  that  gloomy  cavern,  ready  to 
seize  me  if  I  dared  to  essay  my  escape.  AVhen  my 
agony  had  reached  its  utmost  bounds  of  endurance, 
I  felt  myself  growing  strangely  light,  and  like  some 
thin  vapor  I  ascended  to  the  mouth  of  the  pit  and 
made  my  exit  into  the  outer  air. 

"The  place  I  then  discovered  to  be  merely  a 
cavern  or  deserted  mine,  but  to  my  unhappy  condi- 
tion of  mind  it  had  appeared  as  the  home  of  the 
damned. 


APPARITIONS.  37 

"  Out  into  space  again,  I  saw  afar  off,  as  across 
tlie  continent,  the  dwelling  where  I  had  passed  the 
last  days  of  my  eventful  life.  A  current  of  air  like 
the  shock  from  an  electric  wire  carried  me  back  to 
the  spot. 

"Heturned  to  the  scene  of  my  crime,  I  became 
possessed  with  the  desire  to  expose  to  view  the  deed 
I  had  committed,  and  to  reveal  my  ^dllany  to  the 
community.  For  two  weary  years  I  have  hovered 
around  this  place  for  that  purpose ;  but  I  have  failed 
hitherto,  as  ^'o\\  have  seen  me  fail  to-night." 

As  he  finished  his  narrative  I  observed  he  seemed 
about  to  relax  into  a  morbid  condition  again.  To  pre- 
vent this,  I  seized  him  kindly  by  the  shoulder  and  ex- 
claimed, "  Friend,  you  must  come  with  me.  Your 
life,  your  future  welfare  is  imperiled.  You  are  like 
one  shut  up  in  a  vault,  breathing  his  own  exhala- 
tions.    You  do  not  understand  the  science  of  mind." 

" The  science  of  mind?"  said  he.  "What  have  I 
to  do  with  that?  'Tis  the  curse  of  Cain  resting  upon 
me.  I  cannot  undo  the  evil  that  I  have  done.  I  am 
an  outcast ! " 

"The  wrong  you  have  done,"  said  I,  "becomes 

doubly,  trebly  magnified  by  thus  living  it  over  day 

by  day.    You  have  committed  a  crime.    Do  you  wish 

to  perpetuate   that   crime?     You   pursue    the   very 

course  to  make  it  permanent  and  enduring.     Mind 

acts  upon  matter  and  matter  reacts  upon  mind.     You 

have  made  the  house  a  partner  to  the  deed  you  have 

committed  by  constantly  associating  it  with  the  act. 

You  have  tainted  its  walls  and  poisoned  it  within 

and  without. 
4 


38  NATIJANIEL  EAWTnOnNE. 

"  It  becomes  sentient  and  reacts  npon  yon.  It  be- 
comes a  )naf>;net,  a  load.stone  to  draw  you.  Your 
constant  habit  of  associatinij  it  in  your  mind  with  the 
past,  creates  around  it  an  atmosphere  which  is  a  part 
of  your  being  and  welds  you  to  it,  so  tliat  you,  the 
house,  and  the  deed,  become  one  mighty  monster, 
inseparal)le.  Tlie  idea  tliat  you  caa  expiate  the 
deed  by  this  self-torture  is  vain.  Yoa  can  neither 
confer  good  upon  yourself  nor  yom-  victim.  Leave 
off  and  follow  me." 

These  last  words  seemed  to  have  the  desired  effect, 
for  he  raised  his  eyes  with  a  sad  smile,  placed  his 
hand  in  mine,  and  said: 

"  I  will  gu  with  you." 

Happy  that  my  efforts  proved  availing,  I  hurried 
on  in  a  joyous  mood,  soon  rising  above  the  earth  and 
bearing  my  companion  to  my  spirit  home. 

The  pure  air  of  the  fragrant  fields  revived  him, 
and  by  the  time  we  arrived  at  my  own  garden-home 
he  seemed  born  into  a  new  life. 

I  set  him  down  under  my  arbor,  now  dripping 
with  golden  fruits,  and  having  refreshed  him  with 
cordial  (angels'  food),  I  called  his  attention  to  the 
beauties  around  us ;  the  birds,  the  flowers,  and  the 
luxurious  growth  of  nature,  which  shed  such  abun- 
dance around  my  home. 

"  See,"  said  I,  "  how  nature  works.  If  the  roots  of 
the  tree  meet  with  obstacles  they  start  off  in  another 
direction.  They  do  not  wind  and  wind  themselves 
aromid  one  spot.     If  they  did  death  would  ensue. 

"  In  every  man's  life  there  are  deeds  to  be  reerretted 
• — wrongs  which  he  would  gladly  undo  —  but  painful 


APPARITIONS.  39 

imaginings  and  fruitless  remorse  will  not  set  them 
right.  Only  by  being  actively  engaged  in  some 
nobler  direction  can  atonement  be  made. 

"  This  woman,  whom  you  lla^'e  injured,  is  in  mag- 
netic ia,pport  with  you;  and  while  you  are  in  this 
moody,  self-denunciatory  frame  of  mind,  your  rest- 
less, unhappy  condition  acts  upon  her,  preventing  her 
from  becoming  contented  and  happy ;  then  her  state 
reacts  back  upon  you,  and  thus  an  evil  equilibrium  is 
maintained." 

"  I  see  my  error, "  he  exclaimed.  "  Tell  me  what 
to  do  and  I  will  do  it." 

It  was  arranged  that  he  should  remain  with  me. 
We  worked  together ;  he  became  happy  and  liis  mind 
no  longer  reverted  to  the  past,  but  active  and  health- 
ful emplo}Tnent  engaged  his  hours. 

When  he  had  recovered  sufficiently  I  took  him  to 
see  his  former  companion.  He  found  her  in  a  plea- 
sant home,  looking  buoyant  and  happy.  All  that 
was  demoniac  had  vanished  from  her  face.  Sur- 
prised, he  burst  into  tears  as  he  beheld  her.  "  Weep 
not,"  said  she,  "  for  I  am  happy  now.  The  past  is 
forgotten." 

They  compared  notes,  and  found  that  peace  had 
entered  into  her  soul  when  he  had  obliterated  the 
past  from  his  memory  and  commenced  his  labors  in 
a  new  life. 

Thus  we  see  that  the  evil  passions  and  attributes  of 
one  nature  may  awaken  and  kindle  like  passions  in 
another,  which  can  only  be  subdued  by  letting  them 
pass  unnoticed,  and  also  by  arousing  the  highei'  fac- 
ulties into  acti^dty. 


WASinXGTOX  IPvYIXa. 


VISIT  TO  HENRY  CLAY. 


Having  recovered  my  healtli  after  a  sojourn  of  two 
weeks  amid  tlie  cliarmiiig  scenery  of  Mount  Rosalia, 
or  the  "  Rose-colored  Moimt,"  I  set  forth  one  morn- 
ing, accompanied  by  a  competent  guide,  to  visit  the 
home  of  my  friend,  Henry  Clay.  The  morning  was  un- 
commonl}^  fine,  even  for  the  sweet  Land  of  the  Blest, 
and  the  fragance  from  the  roses  blooming  upon  the 
hill-side  was  fairly  intoxicating. 

Our  phaeton  was  a  small,  Avhite,  swan-shaped  car- 
riage, ornamented  with  golden  designs,  and  propelled 
by  a  galvanic  battery  in  the  graceful  swan-head,  which 
at  ray  request  took  the  place  of  the  ordinary  steed. 

This  was,  to  me,  an  exceedingly  novel  mode  of 
travel,  which  my  short  sojourn  in  the  spiiit  world  had 
prevented  me  from  before  enjoying. 

We  glided  over  tlie  electric  ground  with  the  speed 

of   liglitning  and   smooth  harmony  of  music.     The 

road  over  which  we  rolled  was  white  and  lustrous  as 

parian  marble,  and  adorned  on  either  side  with  mont 

rare  and  beautiful  forms  of  foliage;    ever  and  anon 

we  passed  gay  cavalcades  and  bands  of  spirits,  who 

were  evidently,  from  their  festal  garments,  and  the 

bright  emanations  which  they  diffused  through  the  air, 

(40) 


VISIT  TO  HENRY  CLAY.  41 

bound  for  some  harmonial  gathering  on  one  of  the 
numerous  islands  Avhich  dot  the  sparkling  river 
Washingtonia,  so  named  after  George  Washington. 

The  distance  from  the  point  whence  I  started, 
according  to  earth's  computation,  was  over  one 
hundred  miles;  but  though  I  desired  my  guide  to 
move  onward  as  slowly  as  possible,  that  I  might  enjoy 
the  prospect  before  me,  we  reached  our  destination 
in  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour ! 

I  had  received  a  special  invitation  from  Henry 
Clay  to  visit  him  on  this  occasion,  as  he  had  called 
together  some  choice  friends  to  gi^'e  me  welcome ; 
yet,  although  I  knew  I  was  expected,  my  surprise 
cannot  be  described  upon  beholding  the  air  filled  with 
bevies  of  beautiful  ladies,  like  radiant  birds,  approach- 
ing, w^ith  the  sound  of  music  and  flutter  of  flowers,  to 
receive  me.  Thus  surrounded  and  escorted,  I  was 
borne  to  the  noble  palace  (for  such  it  may  be  justly 
termed)  of  Henry  Clay. 

The  structure  is  of  white  alabaster,  fac^d  with  a 
pale  yellow  semi-transparent  stone,  which  glistened 
most  gorgeously.  The  form  of  the  building  is 
unlike  any  order  of  architecture  with  which  I  had 
been  acquainted.  The  avenue  by  which  it  was  ap- 
proachecl  was  decorated  alternately  with  statues  of 
representative  Americans,  and  a  peculiar  flowering 
tree,  whose  green  leaves  and  yellow  blossoms,  of 
G-ossamer  texture,  resembled  the  fine  mist  of  a  sum- 
mer  morning.  Terminating,  this  avenue  was  the 
main  entrance,  surmounted  by  the  grand  dome  of  the 
edifice.  In  the  rear  of  this  rotunda,  extending  on 
either  side,  appeared  the  main  building,  rising,  turret 


42  WASHINGTON  IRVING. 

on  turret,  lilcc  a  stupeiidons  imuntain  of  alabaster 
beaming  as  with  soft  moonlight  in  the  clear  summer 
air. 

We  entered  bj  ascending  a  staircase  composed  of 
twelve  broad  steps.  And  here  let  me  pause,  before 
recountini;  my  interview  with  the  celebrated  states- 
man,  to  describe  the  main  hall,  whose  magnificence 
I,  upon  entering,  liastily  surveyed,  but  which  I 
afterward  studied  more  com})letely.  The  floor  of 
this  hall  was  formed  of  delicate  cerulean  blue 
gems.  From  its  centre  sprang,  like  a  fountain,  a 
most  wonderful  representation  of  a  flowering  plant 
resembling  the  lotus,  composed  of  precious  and 
brilliant  stones.  The  green  leaves  forming  the  base 
were  of  transparent  emerald,  and  the  white  lily 
which  surmounted  the  stem  blossomed  out  clearer 
than  any  crystal.  The  yellow  centre,  corresponding 
to  the  pistils,  formed  a  divan.  This  beautiful  orna- 
ment was  intended  for  the  desk  of  the  orator.  The 
dome,  which  was  several  hundred  feet  high,  was  open 
to  tlie  summer  sky,  and  arranged  in  tiers  graduated 
one  above  the  other.  The  lower  tier  was  filled  with 
paintings  indi(;ating  the  progress  of  the  United  States 
of  America.  Surmountino-  this  was  a  gallery  of  small 
compartments,  each  hung  with  silver  and  gold  gauze 
d)-a})ery,  and  similar  in  construction  to  the  boxes  of  a 
theatre ;  these  o[)ened  into  halls  or  alleys  leading  to 
l)rivate  apartments  connecting  with  tlie  main  building. 
Above  these  boxes  Avere  placed  artistically-carved 
animals,  representing  the  native  beasts  of  America. 
Above  these  again,  appeared  groups  in  marble  of 
the  fruits  of  the  country. 


VISIT  TO  HENRY  CLAY.  43 

No  sooner  liad  I  entered  the  building  which  I  have 
been  describing,  than  a  peculiar  rushing  sound  like 
distant  music  reached  my  ear ;  on  lifting  my  eyes 
in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  I  beheld  descending 
through  the  air  the  majestic  form  of  Henry  Clay. 
He  approached  with  extended  hand  and  fascinating 
smile  to  receive  me.  How  like  and  yet  how  unlike 
the  famous  man  I  had  known  on  earth !  The  gray 
hair  of  age  had  given  place  to  the  abundant  glossy 
locks  of  youth.  The  intellectual  eye  beamed  with  a 
new  life  and  his  whole  person  sent  forth  an  efful- 
gence most  attractive.  Those  of  my  readers  who 
knew  him  on  earth  will  well  remember  the  peculiar 
fascination  of  his  sphere,  but  they  can  form  from  the 
remembrance  but  a  slight  idea  of  the  attractive  aura 
he  sheds  forth  in  this  existence.  I  immediately  felt 
myself  drawn  by  an  invisible  power  toward  him. 
He  grasped  my  hand  with  the  frank  cordiality  and 
grace  of  former  days,  and  leading  me  thus,  we  arose 
together  and,  passing  through  one  of  the  arched  com- 
partments of  tlie  upper  tier,  entered  another  portion  of 
the  buildino;.  '   As  we  moved  on  I  seemed   to  live 

O  

portions  of  my  earthly  life,  long  past.  The  gorgeous 
and  fantastic  architecture  which  everywhere  met  my 
eye  reminded  me  of  the  halls  of  the  Alhambra. 
Swiftly  passing,  we  emerged  through  a  spacious  arch 
upon  an  open  arbor,  where  were  congregated  the 
guests  whom  I  had  been  invited  to  meet.  I  started 
back  with  a  shock  of  delight  when  I  beheld,  in  the 
centre  of  the  group,  the  immortal  figure  of  George 
Washington.  I  knew  him  instantly,  partly  from  the 
likenesses  which  had  been  extant  on  earth,  and  partly 
from  the  noble   spirit  which  emanated  like  a  sun 


44  WASniNGTON  IRVING. 

from  his  person.  The  group  parted  as  we  entered 
and  T  immediately  felt,  resting  upon  my  shoulder 
like  a  l)enedi(;tion,  the  soft,,  firm  hand  of  the  Father 
of  his  Country.  "  Wasliington  !  "  I  exclaimed,  fer- 
vidly grasping  his  hand.  "•  At  lengtli  we  have  met ! " 
he  responded,  and  a  smile  of  ineffable  joy  lighted  his 
countenance,  lie  then  spoke  of  the  many  changes 
through  which  the  United  States  had  passed  since 
his  removal  to  the  spii-it  land.  I  was  surprised  at 
the  extent  of  knowledge  he  displayed.  Not  the 
slightest  variation  in  tlie  scale  of  political  economy 
had  escaped  his  notice.  lie  expressed  himself 
pleased  especially  at  the  great  progress  and  develop- 
ment of  the  people  within  the  last  twenty  years, 
lie  alluded  to  their  rapid  march  through  the  western 
territories ;  the  founding  of  new  and  important  States ; 
the  development  of  the  ao;ri cultural  and  mineral 
resources  of  countries  supposed  to  be  almost  value- 
less ;  of  the  invention  and  construction  of  machinery 
adapted  to  the  wants  and  necessities  of  those  new 
and  rapidly-increasing  States.  "  This  marvellous 
growth  is  owing  to  their  being  essentially  a  mcdium- 
istic  people  —  is  it  not  so?"  said  he,  smiling  and 
turning  to  tlie  assembled  guests.  "  Yes,  yes ! "  I 
heard  repeated  on  all  sides.  On  this  commenced  a 
general  conversation.  I  listened  as  one  in  a  dream. 
Around  me  I  beheld  the  faces  and  forms  of  the 
heroes  of  past  history,  each  bearing  the  shape  and 
semblance  of  humanity,  though  removed  from  earth 
millions  of  miles  into  space.  One  and  all  emitted, 
like  stars,  their  own  peculiar  luminous  aura.  Col- 
lected in  motley  groui)S  were  Benjamin  Franklin, 
John  Hancock,  "William  Penn,  Old  General  Jackson, 


VISIT  TO  HENRY  CLAY.  45 

Jolm  Jacob  Astor,  De  Witt  Clinton,  and  many  of  the 
old  Knickerbocker  residents  of  New  York  ;  with  Sir 
Robert  Peel,  Lord  Brongliam,  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton, Hunt,  Keats,  Byron,  Scott,  Oowper,  Hume, 
Goethe,  De  Stael,  Mrs.  Ilemans,  and  many  others. 

"  The  people  of  America  have  progressed  to  an 
astonishing  degree,"  said  a  musical  voice  at  my  left. 
"  We  must  initiate  Irving  into  the  means  by  which 
we  impart  knowledge  to  the  mediumistic  nation 
through  the  Cabinet  at  Washington." 

"Certainly,"  responded  Henry  Clay.  "Let  all 
formalities  cease.  We  will  partake  of  refreshments, 
and  then  Franklin  will  make  him  acquainted  with 
the  wonderful  aids  to  science  and  humanity  with 
which  he  has  supplied  my  residence." 

As  he  ceased  speaking,  a  shower  of  sound,  like  the 
music  from  the  ringing  of  innumerable  crystal  bells, 
filled  the  air.  Accompanying  this,  and  apparently 
descending  from  the  ceiling,  a  soft  light  of  aromatic 
odor  diffused  itself  through  the  apartment.  This  was 
followed  by  the  appearance  of  a  shining  disk  of  am- 
ber and  pearl,  revolving  rapidly  in  its  descent  till  it 
reached  the  congregated  party.  This  magic  circle 
(which  Thomas  Hood,  who  was  present,  facetiously 
termed  the  "wheel  of  fortune")  was  supplied  with  re- 
freshments truly  supernal.  Here  were  fruits  of  mop.t 
brilliant  dyes;  some  of  soft,  pulpy  flesh,  and  others 
of  the  consistency  of  honey;  soine  more  transparent 
than  the  diamonds  of  earth ;  others  substantial,  seem- 
ingly intended  to  supply  the  demands  of  hunger.  Hero 
were  confections  resembling  foam  and  cloud,  whose 
very  taste  was  elysium.  The  guests  ate  and  chatted 
vivaciously.    I  received  much  information  concerning 


46  WASHINGTON  IliVTNO. 

the  various  products  of  this  great  hand  which  were 
disphayed  upon  tlie  table.  Tlie  most  hiscious  fruits, 
I  C'linsidcred,  both  in  tUivor  and  quality,  were  those 
produced  on  an  island  in  the  spirit  land  correspond- 
ing to  your  island  of  Cuba,  which  was  under  the 
protection  of  a  band  of  spirits  called  the  "Good 
Sistei-s." 

The  company  having  regaled  themselves  at  the 
table,  arose  and  divided  into  groups,  laughing  and 
chattiuir  like  ordinary  mortals.  I  felt  immediately 
attracted  to  a  cluster  of  which  Benjamin  Franklin 
was  the  magnetic  centre.  I  reminded  liim  of  the 
duties  imposed  on  him  by  our  host,  and  told  him 
playfully  that  I  desired  to  investigate  the  mysteries 
of  this  M'ondcrful  palace.  lie  cordially  acquiesced, 
and,  in  conq^any  with  a  few  friends,  we  connnenced 
our  explorations.  I  incpiired  as  to  the  construction 
of  the  table  from  which  we  had  just  arisen,  so  supe- 
rior to  the  cumbersome  ones  of  earth.  "It  is  a  very 
simple  contrivance,"  he  smilingly  remarked.  "You 
observe  inserted  in  these  twisted  columns,  ornamented 
with  leaves,  which  siqiport  the  ceiling,  an  electric 
wire,  similar  to  that  of  a  telegraph.  From  each  of 
these  central  columns,  this  wire  connects  with  the 
upper  gallery.  Here,"  said  he,  pointing  to  one  of 
the  leafy  ornamemts,  "you  perceive  the  means  of 
communicatino:.  Unobserved  bv  vou,  our  gracious 
host  touched  one  of  these  springs  M-hich  are  connect- 
ed M'ith  the  crystal  bells,  and  announced  to  liis  ser- 
vants his  desire  for  refreshments."  "Servants?'' 
exclaimed  I.  "How  singular!  I  little  supposed,  from 
the  reli<:;ious  teachings  I  had  received,  that  there 
would  be  menials  in  heaven ! " 


VISIT  TO  HENRT  CLAY.  47 

"Thee  has  a  poor  memory,"  remarked  William 
Penn,  with  a  bright  smile,  "  Did  not  the  Bible  teach 
thee  that  there  was  an  upper  and  a  lower  seat  ?  These 
servants  are  composed  mostly  of  those  who  were  held 
in  slavery  on  earth  and  who  desire  to  receive  instruc- 
tion  that  they  may  progress  in  the  spheres.  They 
are  willing  assistants;  gi^'ing,  that  they  may  receive 
in  return.  If  thee  dislike  the  term  'servant,'  thee 
may  use  the  term  'friend,'  for  they  are  friends  and 
co-workers.  Through  those  doors  in  the  gallery 
they  bring  the  refreshments  which  they  gather  from 
the  hanging  gardens  without,  where  they  live  lilce 
the  Peries  of  the  East.  The  luxury  of  the  princes 
of  earth  cannot  compare  with  the  life  of  enjoyment 
and  freedom  led  by  those  whom  I  have  termed 
'  servants.' " 

I  here  took  the  opportunity  to  ask  Franklin  if  it 
was  necessary,  in  connnuni eating  with  absent  individ- 
uals, to  use  those  external  appliances?  "Not  always; 
thought  can  commune  with  thought  if  upon  the  same 
plane;  but  a  mind  like  that  of  our  great  statesman 
cannot  readily  communicate  with  one  whose  mind 
on  earth  never  rose  above  the  domestic  affairs  of  life. 
In-  such  cases,  external  means  are  necessary." 

"  Come,"  said  he,  turning ;  "  I  will  show  yon  some- 
thing more  remarkable  than  this."  So  saying,  he  led 
me  through  an  open  door  into  one  of  the  spacious 
gardens  which  grace  the  palace  on  either  side.  We 
walked  but  a  few  moments,  arm  in  arm,  over  a  soft 
velvet  like  lawn,  of  the  color  of  a  delicate  violet. 
Exquisite  tints  everywhere  met  my  eye.  The  air 
was  like  wine,  and  so  luscious  and  entrancing  were 
the  surroundings  that  I  felt  inclined  to  tarrv.  but  mv 


48  WASniNGTON  IRVIXG. 

sage  guide,  culling  my  attention  to  the  majestic  dome 
towering  in  tlic  air,  desired  me  to  exert  my  M'ill  to 
ascend.     1  did  so,  and  immediately  felt  myself  rising 
as  if  pressed  up  l)y  some  elastic  substance,  until  1 
reached  the  to^).     The  dome,  which  appeared  to  be 
composed   of    glass,  I    perceived,  as  I    approached, 
was  covered  with  a  thin  web  resembling  that  of  a 
spider.     The  apex  of  this  dome  was  surmounted  by 
a  globe  representing  the  planet  earth,  with  its  conti- 
nents and  seas.     Openings  corresponding  to  the  dif- 
ferent continents  admitted  persons   into  the    globe. 
We  entered  that  corresponding  to  the  continent  of 
North  America.     Each  of  these  entrances,  I  was  told, 
was  particularly  adapted  to  the  admission  of  the  in- 
habitants of  the  different  localities  they  represented. 
On  looking  down  I  beheld  the  apartment  I  had  first 
entered.     It  was  no  longer  vacant — each  gallery  was 
filled  with  spectators.     On   the   lily-shaped  rostrum 
stood  Henry  Clay  and  George  Washington — Wash- 
ington speaking  to  the  people.     "  You  observe,"  said 
my  guide,  "a  secondary  stem  from  that  lily  branches 
off  and  extends  to  this  })oint.    It  appears  to  you  a  mere 
ornament,  but  it  transmits  the  thoughts  and  words  of 
the    speaker  to    the   city   of    Washington.      Other 
bran(.'hes,  as  you  notice,  lead  in  other  directions.     If 
the  speaker  desires  his  thoughts  to  be  transmitted  to 
any  given  point,  he  leans  toward  the  stem  leading  to 
that  p(;int.     This  silken  web  which  you  have  admired, 
is  a  sensitive  electric  telegraph.    It  is  composed  of  the 
elements  of  mind;  in  llie  world  you  have  lately  in- 
habited it  would  be  intangible,  but  it  has  a  subtle 
connection  with  the  human  brain,  and  spirit  thoughts 
directed  through  it  go  with  the  promptness  of  elec- 


VISIT  TO  HENRY  CLAY.  49 

triclty  to  their  destination.  Thought  is  electric,  but 
its  power  of  transmitting  itself  is,  like  that  of  the 
human  voice,  limited ;  the  voice  requires  the  artificial 
assistance  of  a  speaking-trumpet  to  throw  its  sound 
beyond  the  ordinary  distance ;  thought  requires  a  sim- 
ilar artificial  conductor.  "You  remember,"  said 
Franklin,  "in  my  early  experiments  with  the  kite  and 
key,  I  could  not  obtain  the  spark  until  I  had  estab- 
lished the  necessary  attraction,  although  the  air  was 
filled  with  the  electric  current.  So  of  the  thought - 
electricty,  which  is  constantly  flomng;  we  have  to 
apply  means  to  concentrate  it  and  give  it  form  and 
expression.  On  earth,  word  and  gesture  are  media 
for  thought,  but  the  savans  have  not  yet  discovered 
the  means  by  which  unspoken  thought  can  take  form 
and  expression.  No  galvanic  wire  nor  chemical  bat- 
tery has  yet  been  invented  by  them,  through  which 
these  electric  sparks  may  be  drawn  down  from  their 
unseen  habitations  among  the  clouds ;  but  in  the 
world  of  spirits  this  great  discovery,  as  I  have  shown 
you,  has  been  made.  In  this  appliance  you  find  the 
thoughts  of  the  speaker  running  through  these  sen- 
sitive wires  until,  like  telegraphic  messages,  they  reach 
their  destination  on  earth." 

I  listened  to  Franklin's  explanation  of  this  gigantic 
sensorium  with  my  soul  filled  with  love  and  admira- 
tion for  the  great  Creator  who  had  formed  the  human 
mind  with  its  vast  capacity  for  penetrating  the  sub- 
lime mysteries  of  nature. 

After  leaving  the  dome  I  continued  my  inspection 
of  the  edifice.  But  of  its  halls  and  galleries,  its 
boudoirs,  libraries,  and  peerless  gardens,  I  will  speak 
at  some  future  time. 


NAPOLEON    BONAPARTE. 


TO    THE  FRENCH  NATION. 

Tkiu:mph  sit3  regent  upon  tlie  Napoleonic  banner. 
Napoleon  the  First  is  dictator  to  Napoleon  the  Third. 
By  my  side  stands  Josephine.  We  were  not  destined 
to  part  eternally.  In  Lonis  Napoleon  Bonaparte  her 
blood  and  mine  commingle.  Restez-vous,  monpatrie; 
Napoleon  shall  decide  aright.  iVb,  jpetit  gargon, 
Napoleon  le  Grand  will  place  you  upon  the  highest 
pinnacle  of  peace. 

Fate  is  inexorable.  The  decrees  of  destiny  are 
more  potent  than  the  wisdom  of  man.  France  and 
Napoleon  are  indissoluble.  The  star  of  Bonaparte 
is  destined  to  shine  yet  for  the  next  half-century. 
None  but  a  patriot  shall  rule  France.  No  proud 
Austrian,  nor  Aveak  and  haughty  Bourbon  shall  flame 
their  colors  from  the  palaces  of  France.  No,  my 
countryman !  ho  who  serves  you,  who  leads  your 
armies  to  victory,  wlio  raises  your  citizens  to  distinc- 
tion, he  whose  courage  is  undaunted,  he  who  has  the 
power  of  prescience  —  is  Napoleon. 

When  Louis  shall  join  me  his  spirit  and  mine 
will  still  animate  the  Bonapartes  who  shall  come 
after  us. 

(50) 


IfAPOLEOy  BONAPARTE.  51 

Repose  entire  confidence  in  his  discretion.  Napo- 
leon tlie  Third  lives  only  for  France. 

You  cry  for  liberty  of  speech  and  liberty  of  the 
press.  But  liberty  is  anarchy.  "Would  you  demand 
liberty  for  the  army  ?  Without  a  head  to  guide  and 
control  it,  the  army  of  France  would  be  a  scourge. 

Through  calamity  the  most  depressing,  the  hand 
of  destiny  has  led  Louis  ISTapoleon  to  the  throne  of 
France,  and  against  sickness  and  disease,  against  the 
hand  of  the  assassin,  and  against  vilifications  of  his 
enemies,  it  will  hold  him  there,  firm.  His  time  has 
not  yet  come.  Before  he  bids  adieu  to  life  he  will 
secure  an  able  leader  for  France. 

I  give  him  my  hand.  I  embrace  him  in  spirit. 
The  shadow  of  Napoleon  attends  him  by  day  and  by 
night. 

Adieu, 

Napoleon. 


W.   M.   THACKERAY. 


N/S  POST  MORTEM  EXPERIENCE. 

Poor  Will  Thackeray,  when  a  stripling,  was  fit  to 
kneel  in  the  street  before  his  mistress,  that  l)i-ight 
luminary  who  shone  to  his  boyish  eyes  like  a  star  of 
the  first  magnitude !  Alas,  he  discovered  her  to  be 
one  of  the  sixteenth,  and  by  the  time  he  had  ceased 
to  care  for  polished  boots  and  stiff,  broad  collars, 
she  had  dwindled  down  to  an  ordinary  piece  of 
humanity ! 

He  found  his  boon  companions,  like  himself,  liable 
to  mistake  an  ant  for  a  whale  and  think  the  King  of 
England  next  in  royalty  to  a  god  ! 

AVhat  a  fool  he  made  of  himself  in  the  eyes  of 
those  who  were  wiser  than  he,  when  he  swore  the 
crown  of  England  was  made  of  unalloyed  gold! 
The  water  he  drank  was  filled  w^ith  animal culos,  yet 
he  swore  it  was  pure  as  the  gods'  nectar.  The  best 
and  fi'eshest  air  he  breathed  contained  poison,  yet 
his  boyish  wisdom  knew  better  tlian  that. 

Poor  Thackeray!  wiser  men  than  he  knew  that 
youthful  imagination  was  a  cheat ;  that  the  mistress 
of  his  heart  was  not  a  goddess ;  and  wiser  beings 
than  they  all  knew  —  angelic  beings,  living  in  the 
golden  streets  of  Paradise,  knew  —  that  the  concep- 
tion of  what  the  spirit  after  death  would  be  able  to  do 

(52) 


HIS  POST  MORTEM  EXPERIENCE.  53 

was  as  far  from  the  truth  as  were  his  boyish  dreams 
of  the  mistress  of  his  heart ! 

Poor  Thackeray !  he  has  attained  that  superior  wis- 
dom now!  He  walks,  himself  a  ghost,  among  the 
ghosts  of  the  past ;  and  these  "  airy  nothings "  nod 
and  smile,  and  shake  hands,  and  say : 

"  Yes,  we  are  ourselves." 

He  thrusts  his  hands  into  his  trowsers  pockets, 
and  remembers  the  time  when  he  thought  it  would 
be  indecent  to  go  naked  in  the  New  Jerusalem ! 
Trowsers,  forsooth !  Yes,  here  they  are,  pockets  and 
all;  and  he  dives  his  hands  in  deeper,  jingling 
something  which  strongly  resembles  cash ;  and  struts 
about  and  hobnobs  with  Addison,  Spencer,  Sterne, 
old  Dean  Swift,  and  he  asks  himself,  "  are  these  the 
great  men  of  my  fancy  ? "  On  reflection  he  finds  he 
had  expected  to  meet  these  luminaries  shining  like 
actual  stars  in  the  firmament,  attended  by  some  un- 
defined splendor. 

Poor  Will  Thackeray !  he  finds  the  same  dross  in 
the  gold,  the  same  animalculse  in  the  water,  the  same 
poison  in  the  air,  the  same  fact  that  men  are  not  gods 
in  that  much-vaunted  place  called  heaven,  as  on  the 
much-abused  earth.  But  he  wipes  his  spectacles,  and 
clears  away  the  mist  of  speculation  and  fancy,  which 
has  bedimmed  his  eyes,  and  looks  about  him  more 
hopefully  and  trustfully  than  in  the  days  when  he 
walked  through  Vanity  Fair  and  saw  how  Mr. 
Timms,  with  not  a  penny  in  the  bank,  pinched  him- 
self to  give  a  little  dinner  in  imitation  of  a  great 
lord  who  gave  a  great  dinner,  and  had  gold  beyond 
his  count;  snobs,  who  wore  paste  jewels  and  cotton- 


54  W.   M.    rnACKERAY. 

backed  velvet,  who  cursed  a  fellow  and  strutted  about 
iu  imitation  of  noble  lords,  who  wore  real  diamonds 
and  silken  velvets!  mimicking  the  follies  of  the  great, 
but  never  their  noble  deeds  and  heroisms. 

lie  is  beyond  snobs  now.  lie  is  in  the  land  of 
heroisms  and  heroes.  Yet  he  feels  he  has  been 
cheated  by  the  fat  parson  who  stole  sovereigns  from 

his  pocket  to  keep  him  out  of  li !     His  spiritual 

bones  fairly  ache  with  the  leagues  he  has  travelled, 
hi-uiting  up  the  throne  of  God !  "  Where  the  deuce," 
he  mutters,  "  is  the  showman  ? "  lie  can't  iind  the 
lake  of  fire  and  brimstone  without  a  guide. 

Poor  Tliackeray!  he  again  wipes  his  spectacles  and 
feels  lie  has  been  sold !  This  life  on  the  other  side 
of  Jordan  lie  finds  to  be  what  his  American  cousins 
would  call  a  "  humbug,"  a  downright  swindle  upon 
the  sympathies  and  good  taste  of  those  who  wear  long 
streamers  of  crape,  and  groan  and  sob  over  his  fune- 
ral rites !  lie  feels  in  duty  bound  (out  of  considera- 
tion for  those  mourners  who  expect  nothing  else)  to 
go  scudding  through  the  air  in  a  loose  white  shroud, 
or  to  rest  cosily  housed  away  in  the  "  bosom  of  his 
Maker,"  like  a  big,  grown-up  infant  that  he  is,  or  else 
to  be  howling  at  the  top  of  his  lungs  hallelujahs  !  — 
he  that  could  never  raise  a  note.  And,  if  not  so, 
certainly,  out  of  com]iliment  to  the  judgment  of  his 
boon  companions,  he  should  be  engaged  in  the  dread 
altci'iiative  of  sitting  astride  a  pair  of  balances  and 
being  "  weighed  and  found  wanting ; "  or  having  been 
sent  by  the  relentless  Judge  into  everlasting  torment 
"  where  there  is  cursing  and  gnashing  of  teeth,"  he 
should  be  found  there  tormenting  his  fellow-imps ! 


HIS  POST  MORTEM  EXPERIENCE.  55 

But  alas !  to  his  mortification,  nothing  of  the  kind 
is  occurring  or  seems  likely  to  occur. 

He  has  been  as  active  as  the  next  man  since  his 
arrival  in  ghostdom.  He  has  peeped  under  the  cha- 
peaux  of  every  solemn  pilgrim  whom  he  has  passed, 
but  failed  to  find  the  four-and-twenty  elders  who 
have  washed  their  robes  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb. 
What  has  he  found  ?  He  really  is  ashamed  to  own 
up  to  the  number  of  mountain  sides  and  sloping  hills 
he  has  inspected  in  the  vain  search  for  a  place  he 

used  to  call  h (he  thought  it  blasphemy  to  add 

the  other  three  letters);  but  neither  cloven  foot,  nor 
forked  tail,  nor  horns,  nor  any  kind  of  fearful  person 
in  black,  has  pounced  upon  him ;  nor  has  lie  been 
seized  by  any  claimant  for  leaving  the  world  mi- 
shriven,  as  he  did. 

Poor  Will  Thackeray !  it  has  been  a  great  disap- 
pointment to  him !  He  expected  some  kind  of  sen- 
sational reception  —  thunder  or  lightning,  or  some 
big  God  whose  towering  front  might  vie  with  Chim- 
borazo  —  to  awe  him  into  the  consideration  that  he 
had  become  a  spirit  and  was  launched  into  the  awful 
precincts  of  eternity !  Xo  wonder  he  feels  dogged 
and  put  upon  to  find  himself  thus  bamboozled ! 
He  undertook  a  long  and  venturesome  journey  to 
"  see  the  elephant,"  but  it  wasn't  there  ! 

He  can't  complain  against  the  citizens  of  this  fa- 
mous "undiscovered  bourne";  they  liave  done  all 
that's  fair  and  square  by  him ;  they  have  shown  all 
tliat  they  have  got ;  and  he  is  too  much  of  a  gentle- 
man to  taunt  them.  He  knows  they  feel  ashamed 
that  they  haven't  those  curiosities  that  their  Vice- 


56 


if:  m.  tuackeray. 


gerents  on  earth  Imd  voiiclied  for  their  having;  he 
can  see  it  in  their  faces ;  hut  lie  considers  himself 
in  duty  bound  to  prepare  his  fellow-citizens  for  what 
they  are  to  expect. 


ARCHBISHOP  HUGHES. 


TWO  NATURAL  RELIGIONS. 

There  are  two  great  natural  religions  before  the 
world,  the  Roman  Catholic  and  the  Spiritualistic; 
and  both  are  adapted  to  the  wants  of  the  race. 

Man  naturally  gives  expression  to  his  thoughts  by- 
external  forms  corresponding  to  his  ideas. 

The  Roman  Catholic  religion  is  accused  of  being  a 
system  of  forms  and  ceremonies,  but  therein  lies  its 
wonderful  adaptation  to  humanity.  Thought  ever 
seeks  expression  in  form,  even  as  a  mother's  love  for 
her  infant  iiuds  expression  in  her  ardent  embrace. 

Love  is  the  prevailing  element  of  the  Catholic 
religion,  as  shown  by  the  love  of  the  Son  of  God  for 
poor,  ignorant,  sinful  creatures. 

We  do  not  present  this  to  the  mind  ideally.  "We 
call  in  the  outcast  and  the  beggar,  and  we  expose  to 
their  view,  in  the  great  cathedrals,  the  Son  of  God, 
as  he  appeared  in  all  his  various  experiences  of 
human  life. 

The  parent  who  can  earn  but  a  scanty  pittance 
for  his  offspring,  sees  before  him  Jesus  lying  in  the 
manger,  equal  in  squalid  poverty  with  the  lowest  of 
mankind. 

The  majesty  and  glory  of  the  courts  of  Heaven 
are  symbolized  in  the  Roman  Church.      There  is 

(57) 


58  ABcnmsnop  iiuohes. 

gathered  the  weakh  of  the  world  I  .Ml  that  is  yet 
attained  in  the  representation  of  the  grand,  the  heau- 
tiful,  the  majestic,  the  sublime,  and  the  devotional,  is 
collected  in  the  Mother  of  Churches. 

"What  eai-thly  king,  in  his  noble  palace,  Avith  its 
costly  architecture,  its  ornaments  of  silver  and  gold, 
its  rare  paintings  and  statuary,  the  Avealth  and  accu- 
mulation of  many  sovereigns,  would  admit  into  its 
sacred  precincts  the  poor  and  the  lowly,  the  beggar 
and  the  thief,  the  Magdalen  and  the  Lazarus  to  sully 
with  their  presence  his  royal  abode  ? 

But  we  erect  palaces  to  the  King  of  Heaven !  regal 
in  architecture,  and  adorned  with  beauty  sui-passing 
in  magnificence  earthly  royalty,  in  which  the  lowliest 
may  enter  on  an  equality  with  the  prince ;  his  un- 
tutored mind,  his  uncultivated  senses  may  listen  to 
music  of  the  highest  order.  The  pealing  tones  of  the 
organ-  resound  under  the  touch  of  the  highest  masters 
of  art  for  his  simple  ear.  Listening  to  those  strains, 
his  mind  forms  a  conception  of  the  harmony  and 
beatitude  of  Heaven ! 

Even  death  is  not  looked  upon  with  horror  by  the 
Catholic.  If  he  lose  a  friend  in  this  life,  unlike  the 
Protestant,  he  does  not  abandon  him  in  oblivion,  but 
his  sympathies  still  extend  to  him  by  offering  masses 
for  his  soul.  And  it  is  because  it  is  so  adapted  to 
man's  spiritual  nature  that  the  Catholic  religion  has 
withstood  the  shock  and  surge  of  ages  ! 

The  restless,  heaving  billows  of  time  have  washed 
airainst  the  seven-hilled  Clnirch  in  vain. 

My  sold  rests  in  peace.  It  has  taken  its  abode  in 
Elysium.     And  in  this  world  among  the  stars,  seeing 


TWO  NATUEAL  RELIGIONS.  59 

clearer  and  further  than  when  I  inhabited  the  lowly 
planet  earth,  I  look  down  npon  the  strnggling,  dying 
race  I  have  left  behind,  and  feel  still,  that  the  Roman 
Catholic  religion  is  the  religion  foT  the  masses. 

A  great  majority  of  men  are  born  into  the  world 
but  little  higher  than  the  beasts  that  pcrisli.  Their 
spiritual  natures,  though  feeble,  need  food  that  is 
adapted  to  their  wants.     That  food  we  furnish. 

Our  priests,  our  sisters  of  charity,  our  holy  fathers, 
our  Benedictine  monks,  our  nuns,  are  to  be  found  in 
every  quarter  of  the  globe.  On  the  mountains  of 
everlasting  snow,  among  the  icebergs  of  the  Polar 
Sea,  and  in  the  sandy  deserts ;  on  inhospitable 
shores,  in  the  torrid  zone,  under  the  burning  rays  of 
tlie  equatorial  sun ;  with  the  savage  and  with  the 
sage  they  are  found  ever  ready  to  stimulate  the 
spiritual  nature,  to  give  earthly  advice,  and  supply 
material  wants. 

As  a  spirit  I  speak  of  what  I  think  best  adapted 
to  the  needs  of  man.  I  endeavor  to  throw  aside  the 
prejudices  of  education.  I  look  upon  the  Protestant 
religion  as  unnatural ;  a  monstrous  belief  which  de- 
forms man.  So  far  as  I  can  see,  its  influence  has 
been  blighting.  It  takes  youth,  joy,  and  animation 
from  the  world.  It  grants  no  indulgence  for  sin,  nor 
for  the  mistakes  of  ignorance.  It  is  cruel  and  harsh, 
and  men  become  narrow  and  self-elated  under  its 
teachings. 

The  Spiritualistic  religion  resembles  the  Catholic 
in  its  breadth  and  amplitude,  and  in  its  humanizing 
and   equalizing   influence.     I  expect  the   day  will 


CO  AllCUBISllOP  iiuonES. 

come  when  all  minor  Lclicfs  will  be  swallowed  up  in 
these  two  great  religions. 

The  Catholic  Church  in  the  spirit  world  is  not  so 
extensive  as  it  is  npon  earth.  Its  usefulness  is 
more  especially  adapted  to  earthly  conditions. 

There  are  some  noble  cathedrals  in  the  spirit 
world.  Mass  is  offered  up  every  morning  at  the  ca- 
thedral of  the  Five  Virgins  in  my  bishopric. 

The  sisterhood  of  the  Five  Wise  Virgins,  newly 
organized,  inhabit  beautiful  and  commodious  ediUces 
adjacent. 

It  is  their  business  to  escort  from  earth  youthful 
souls  who  have  been  baptized  in  the  Church,  and 
who  are  friendless  and  vagrant,  having  inhabited 
while  on  earth  such  parts  of  Xew  York  City  as  the 
Five  Points  and  Water  street,  and  ha^-ing  neither  kin- 
dred nor  connection  to  claim  them. 

These  are  received  into  the  beautiful  home  of  the 
sisterhood.  They  batlie  in  the  golden  fountains  of 
youth,  and  are  instructed  in  various  ways.  They  are 
taught  the  uses  of  magnetism,  mesmerism,  and  psy- 
chology, and  return  to  earth  to  rap,  write,  and  speak, 
through  media,  and  to  bring  back  the  stray  lambs  to 
the  fold. 


EDGAR  A.  POE. 


THE  LOST  SOUL. 

Hark  the  bell !  the  funeral  bell, 

Calling  the  soiil 

To  its  goal. 
Oh !  the  haunted  human  heart, 
From  its  idol  doomed  to  part ! 
Yet  a  twofold  beiag  bearing. 
She  and  I  apart  are  tearing; 
She  to  heaven  I  to  hell ! 
Going,  going !     Hark  the  bell ! 

Far  in  hell, 

Tolling,  tolling. 

Fiends  are  rolling, 
Whitened  bones,  and  cofiins  reeking. 
Fearful  darkness  grimly  creeping 

On  my  soul. 

My  vision  searing, 

She  disapjiearing, 

Drawn  from  me 

By  a  soul  I  cannot  see, 
Whom  I  know  can  never  love  her. 
Oh !  that  soul  could  I  discover, 

I  would  go, 

Steeped  in  woe, 
DowTi  to  darkness,  down  to'  hell ! 
Hark  the  bell !     Farewell !  farewell ! 


(61) 


JEAN  PAUL  PvICIITER 


INVISIBLE  INFLUENCES. 


A  snip  is  on  the  ocean.  The  Avind  is  fair.  All 
hands  are  in  motion.  Ihit  a  few  honrs  since,  it  left 
port.  Among  its  passengers  is  a  gay  traveller ;  lie 
wears  a  silken  cdoak  fi'inged  with  gold.  The  sailors 
admire  his  splendor;  they  gather  around  him  as 
he  walks  the  deck  with  his  flying  rohe.  They  put 
forth  tlieir  rough  hands  to  feel  its  soft  texture;  its 
warm,  bright  (;olor  gives  pleasure  to  their  eyes.  As 
they  gaze  their  pulses  lieighten,  their  steps  become 
unsteady,  their  eyes  wander  from  duty,  their  great 
sturdy  frames  quiver  with  emotion.  The  captain 
rallies  them,  but  in  vain. 

What  secret  foe  is  in  their  midst?  Their  parched 
tongues,  cleaving  to  the  roofs  of  tlieir  mouths,  call 
for  the  surgeon.  lie  comes  —  he  questions,  "From 
^^•hence  comest  thou  ? "  "  From  the  Orient,"  the  trav- 
eller replies.  The  surgeon  gasps  and  shakes  his  head, 
lie,  too,  is  stricken  with  fear.  '' 'Tis  the  j^Zrt^?;^/" 
he  v\'hispers.  An  unseen,  deadly  foe  is  stalking 
l;eneath  that  gay  cloak!  The  traveller  hears  and 
shudders;  he  flings  off  his  gay  vestment.     The  waves 

(62) 


INVISIBLE  INFLUENCES.  63 

gather  up  the  silken  folds.  But  the  sacritice  is  use- 
less. A  fell  hand  strikes  down  both  traveller  and 
sailor.  As  they  gasp  and  die  they  are  hurried  to  the 
ship's  side ;  they  are  plunged  overboard ;  a  seething, 
foaming  grave  yawns  to  receive  them. 

The  ship  glides  on.     Those  who  remain  wash  the 
deck  with  water.     They  cannot  Avash  away  the  de- 
mon which  is  everywhere  and  yet  nowhere.     .     .     . 
Poisons  as  subtle  attend  the  human  spirit,  baneful 
and  contagious  as  the  plague ! 

See  yonder  peaceful  cottage,  nestling  by  the  hill- 
side ;  hope  and  contentment  dwell  therein  ;  within 
its  walls  beauty  and  grace  awaken  harmony.  Lured 
by  the  bright  sunshine,  a  stranger  enters  the  door. 
He  sits  and  chats  awhile  with  the  inmates.  His 
talk  is  pleasant,  and  as  he  converses  a  cloud  falls 
upon  the  house,  the  sunshine  becomes  darkened,  and 
the  dwellers  within  the  pretty  cottage  sliiver  as  with 
cold.  They  heed  not  the  change,  for  the  chat  of 
their  guest  delights  them.  But  when  he  departs  he 
leaves  behind  him  a  poison  more  baneful  than  the 
plague. 

The  inmates  of  the  peaceful  cottage  look  with 
gloomy  eyes  one  upon  the  other;  they  become  dis- 
satisfied and  distracted  among  themselves,  and  dis- 
cord takes  the  place  of  harmony. 

Secret  influences  are  at  work,  poisons  thrown 
out  by  the  sphere  of  the  guest.  A  worse  fate  befalls 
them  than  befell  the  sailors  who  were  invaded  by  the 
insidious  Plague. 

I  have  seen  in  nature  a  fair  face  clouded  sud- 
denly —  made  gloomy  and  unlovely —  by  the  unspoken 


C4  JEjUT  PAUL  mCUTER. 

tlionglit  of  another.  Thought  is  contagious  —  some 
varieties  of  it  poisonous !  I  liave  seen  tlie  countenance 
of  an  innocent  child  transformed  into  ugliness  by  a 
poisonous  thought.  I  have  seen  tliose  Avho  have 
looked  upon  her  receive  that  thought  and  become 
likewise  infected. 

I  have  seen  also  to  this  picture  another  and  a 
brighter  side.  I  have  seen  secret  influences  drawing 
individuals  together,  sustaining  and  upholding  them  ; 
as  the  long  tine  fllaments  of  wool  clasp  each  other 
and  draw  together  the  separate  particles,  so  have  I 
seen  individuals  united.  Thus  was  the  first  Napoleon 
united  to  Josephine.  A  secret  influence  as  potent  as 
the  plague  passed  from  one  to  the  other ;  but  it 
breathed  health  and  not  poison. 

Napoleon,  with  his  powerful  will,  disrupted  these 
magnetic  relations ;  he  tore  apart  the  unseen  filaments 
that  l)ound  them;  and,  the  sustaining  influence  gone, 
he  fell  —  a  mighty  wreck  —  on  the  bleak  shore  of 
St  Helena. 

AVhat  man  or  woman  can  comprehend  the  secret 
influences  that  surround  the  soul.  Keep  guard; 
and  when  the  blood  stagnates  within,  when  secret 
shudders,  and  gloomy  thoughts,  and  inliarmonious 
feelings  arise,  Ije  sure  that  some  poison-breathing 
foe  is  at  hand. 

Set  the  door  ajar,  and  resolutely  turn  your  face 
from  the  secret  influence  that  would  destroy  you. 


CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

(CURRER    BELL.) 


AGN^ES  REEF.— A    TALE. 

CHAPTER  I. 


I  WAS  brought  up  and  educated  by  my  bacbelor 
uncle.  He  was  a  reticent,  moody  man,  and  with  his 
aged  housekeeper  and  myself,  led  a  solitary  and  un- 
social life  in  the  old  rambling  house  which  had  been 
his  father's  before  him. 

I  was  but  a  child  of  six  years  when  destiny  placed 
me  under  his  charge,  and  with  him  I  remained  eleven 
years;  a  scared,  repressed  little  thing,  revelling  in 
strange  fancies  in  the  spidery  attic  rooms,  and  looking 
down  through  the  dusty  cobwebbed  windows  upon 
the  life  and  movement  below,  unconscious  that  I 
formed  a  part  of  that  active  humanity. 

Thus  I  lived  until  I  entered  my  seventeenth  year. 
For  the  last  two  years  my  mind  had  been  expanding 
and  growing  discontented  with  my  lot.  The  morose- 
ness  of  my  uncle,  the  sullenness  of  his  housekeeper, 
the  gloom  and  dinginess  of  the  bare  rooms  had 
grown  insupportable  to  me.  These  alone  I  might 
have  endured,  but  added  to  them  were  other  sources 
of  disquiet,  not  the  least  of  which  being  hints  from 
the  housekeeper  that  it  was  time  I  began  to  do  some- 
thing for  myself.  Youth,  pride,  and  ambition  stirred 
6*  (65) 


66  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

witliiu  me,  and  I  actively  set  about  looldng  for  a 
sitiiutioii. 

I  had  not  long  to  wait ;  in  one  of  tlie  weekly 
papers,  of  wliicli  my  uncle  took  many,  I  one  day  dis- 
covered an  adxcrtisement,  wliicli  to  my  morbid  fancy 
seemed  sent  by  fate  especially  to  me. 

A  young  lady  was  wanted  to  take  charge  of  tlie 
education  of  a  boy  of  eleven  years.  Upon  reading 
this  advertisement,  I  immediately  sat  down  and  wrote 
a  letter,  offering  my  services. 

By  return  mail  I  received  a  note  acknowledging 
the  receipt  of  mine,  and  stating  that  as  I  was  the 
only  applicant  and  my  testimonials  satisfactory,  I 
was  acceptecL 

I  informed  my  uncle  of  my  c:ood  fortune.  lie  re- 
ceived  the  news  with  a  gridf  approval,  adding  that 
he  hoped  I  would  do  well,  as  I  could  expect  no  fur- 
ther pecuniary  aid  from  him  than  would  be  sufficient 
to  carry  me  there. 

My  emotions,  as  I  packed  my  little  trunk  on  that 
memorable  Saturday,  were  of  a  mixed  character ;  but 
pleasure  predominated.  Hope  beckoned  me  on  :  and 
the  sadness  attendant  on  breaking  loose  from  the 
unfriendly  home  in  which  I  had  lived  so  long  was 
but  transitory. 

Monday  morning  saw  me  seated  cora]X)sedly  in  the 
rail-coach  on  the  way  to  "Bristcd  Hall,"  m}-  destina- 
tion. Towards  nightfall  we  stopped  at  a  station  in  a 
desolate,  sparsely-inhabited  district.  My  road  diverg- 
ing here,  I  hniTied  out,  and  the  long  train  which 
connected  me  with  my  past  life  sped  out  of  sight. 

Drawing  my  veil  closel}''  to  m^'  face  to  hide  a  few 


AGNES  REEF.  67 

falling  tears,  I  looked  around  the  desolate  waitino;- 
room,  to  see  if  any  fellow-creature  was  expecting  me. 
As  I  did  so  a  heavy,  thumping  footstep  sounded  upon 
the  platform,  and  a  surly  voice  inquired : 

"Are  you  Miss  Reef?"  accompanying  the  question 
by  a  slight  pull  at  my  shawl. 

Turning,  I  beheld  a  deformed  little  man  with  long 
arms  and  a  high  back,  awaiting  my  answer  to  his 
question.     I  summoned  courage  to  ask : 

"  AVere  you  sent  for  Miss  Eeef  ? " 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  I  am  Mr.  Bristed's  man.  He 
told  me  to  drive  here  and  fetch  home  a  Miss  Reef  — 
if  you  are  that  person,  miss  !  "  touching  his  hat  with 
an  effort  at  politeness. 

"  I  am,"  I  answered,  and  without  further  ado  we 
proceeded  to  the  carriage,  which  he  had  left  waiting 
at  the  rear  platform. 

The  evening  air  was  chilly,  for  it  was  quite  sunset. 
Drawing  my  shawl  around  me,  I  ensconced  myself 
in  a  corner  of  the  vehicle,  and  watched  the  fading 
landscape  with  stolid  indiiference  to  wdiatever  might 
befall  me. 

We  drove  on  thus  for  a  good  hour  and  a  half, 
halting  at  length  before  a  dark,  massy  object,  the 
form  of  which  my  dozy  eyes  could  not  discern. 
However,  it  proved  to  be  Bristed  Hall. 

I  emerged  from  the  carriage  and  passed  up  the 
steps  to  an  open  door  which,  at  the  pausing  of  our 
carriage  wheels,  had  been  set  ajar.  An  old  woman, 
the  feminine  counterpart  of  my  sulky  driver,  stood  in 
the  dimly-lighted  passage-way  to  receive  me.  She 
vouchsafed  me  but  a  grum  welcome,  but  I  felt  al- 


68  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

ready  too  desolate  and  weary  to  experience  any  fur- 
ther depression  from  her  humor. 

Bidding  me  follow  her,  and  ordering  the  man  to 
carry  my  luggage,  she  led  me  directly  through  the 
hall  up  tlie  stairway  to  a  chamber  evidently  prepared 
for  my  use.  The  apartment  was  prettily  furnislied, 
and  its  tidy  appearance  and  the  cheerful  tire  burning 
on  the  hearth  quite  roused  my  drooping  spirits. 

After  assisting  me  to  remove  my  t)onnet  and 
shawl,  my  conductress  left  me,  returning  ere  long 
with  a  tray  containing  refreshments.  These  she  set 
before  me  with  silent  hospitality ;  then  bade  me  good- 
nio;lit,  savins:  she  would  call  me  in  the  mornino'  at 
eight  o'clock  for  breakfast. 

My  sleep  that  niglit  was  disturbed  by  dreams, 
whicli  though  vague  tilled  me  with  terror. 

I  imagined  that  I  was  walking  tlirough  a  long 
corridor,  opening  into  a  sumptuous  a})artment,  its 
interior  partly  concealed  by  rich  folds  of  damask 
curtains.  I  lifted  the  heavy  draper}^  and  essayed  to 
enter,  but  a  cold  hand  grasped  mine  and  j)revented 
me.  A  woman's  figure,  slight  and  youthful,  with 
white  face,  great  sad  eyes,  and  long  yellow  hair,  stood 
in  the  arched  doorM'ay  and  })ressed  me  back  with 
her  clammy  hand.  I  started  up  from  my  pillow  in 
alarm  to  find  myself  alone ;  the  pale  moonbeams 
streaming  through  the  looped  curtains  of  the  window 
and  glancing  upon  my  forehead,  I  thouglit,  probably 
accounted  for  the  cold  hand  of  my  dream.  I  slept, 
and  dreamed  again.  The  scene  was  changed :  a  Held 
of  stubble  lay  before  mc ;  througli  it  I  must  make  my 
way ;  the  rough  ground  hurt  my  feet ;  I  stumbled 


AONES  BEEF.  69 

and  fell ;  attempting  to  rise,  I  saw  painted  in  clear 
relief  against  the  horizon  the  same  female  figure. 

Her  pale,  golden  hair  Irang  long  and  loose  over 
her  shoulders.  As  she  caught  my  eye  she  lifted  her 
finger  as  if  in  warning,  and  disappeared  from  sight. 


CHAPTER  n. 

Feom  these  dreams  I  awakened  in  the  morning 
perplexed,  disturbed,  and  unrefreshed.  After  dress- 
ing, I  was  summoned  to  breakfast  by  the  person  w^ho 
had  received  me  the  previous  night.  She  led  me 
down  the  stairway  and  through  the  hall  into  the 
breakfast  room. 

It  was  a  long,  narrow  apartment,  with  wainscots 
and  floor  of  polished  oak.  A  bright  fire  blazed  upon 
the  hearth.  A  small  round  stand  was  set  forth,  upon 
which  was  placed  my  solitary  repast.  I  seated  my- 
self and  partook,  M^ith  a  relish,  of  the  nice  cakes, 
fragrant  coffee,  and  sv/eet  clover  butter. 

Having  finished  my  meal,  I  arose  and  w^alked  to 
one  of  the  deep-set  windows  w^hich  lighted  the  apart- 
ment.    Lifting  the  curtain,  I  looked  out. 

A  grassy  lawn  overhung  with  trees ;  clear  gravel 
paths  and  well-trimmed  shrubbery;  beyond,  rocks 
relieved  by  a  patch  of  blue  sky ;  a  thin  line  of  light, 
neutral  tinted,  winding  through  the  distant  meadows, 
indicating  a  streamlet;  these  constituted  the  land- 
scape. 

Having  spent  a  full  quarter  of  an  hour  in  abstract- 


70  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

edly  gazing  at  this  scene,  I  was  called  to  reality  by 
the  opening  of  the  room  door,  and  a  strange  voice 
repeating  my  name.  The  person  presenting  herself 
a]ij)earcd  tobe  an  upper  servant  —  a  tall,  thin  woman, 
with  dark  hair  sprinkled  with  gray,  and  an  amiable, 
weak  face. 

"  If  you  have  finished  your  breakfast,  Miss,  I  will 
show  you  to  Mr.  Bristed's  room." 

I  assured  her  it  was  completed,  and,  following  her, 
I  crossed  the  hall  and  entered  a  door  at  the  left. 
A  pleasant  odor  of  flowers  met  my  grateful  sensqs. 
The  room  was  spacious,  wide  and  deep,  and  hand- 
somely carpeted.  The  walls  were  ornamented  with 
paintings  and  engravings. 

An  ample  arm-chair,  which  the  owner  had  evi- 
dently just  vacated,  and  a  table  containing  books 
and  papei's,  gave  a  tone  of  both  comfort  and  ele- 
gance to  the  room,  which  was  decidedly  congenial  to 
my  taste. 

Two  great  glass  doors,  reflecting  clearly  the  morn- 
ing sunbeams,  led  into  a  conservatory  from  whence 
issued  the  fragrance  I  perceived  on  entering. 

Among  the  flowers  moved  a  tall,  manly  figure.  As 
I  entered,  the  gentleman  came  forward. 

"  Miss  Eeef ,  Mr.  Bristed,"  said  my  companion,  by 
way  of  introduction. 

So  this  was  my  employer.  As  he  stood  before  me, 
I  surveyed  him  ;  a  M'cll-formed  gentleman,  above  the 
ordinary  height,  with  pale  complexion,  set  off  by 
dark,  penetrative  eyes ;  a  shapely  head  covered  with 
long,  heavy  masses  of  straight  dark  hair.  The  im- 
pression his  appearance  conveyed  to  me  was  that  of 


AGNES  REEF.  71 

a  person  benevolent  bnt  apathetic ;  iniTiappy  \dthout 
the  will  or  power  to  shake  off  his  burden. 

He  bade  me  be  seated.  "  You  are  young,"  said  he, 
reflectively.     "  May  I  ask  your  age  % " 

"  Seventeen,"  I  replied. 

"  Very  young,"  he  reiterated,  thoughtfully  shaking 
his  head;  "however,  as  you  are  here,  if  you  wish 
to  remain,  Mary  will  introduce  you  to  your  pupil." 

"  I  certainly  wish  to  remain,"  said  I,  impatiently ; 
"  I  have  journeyed  quite  a  distance  for  that  purpose, 
and  shall  be  happy  to  commence  the  instruction  of 
my  pupil  immediately." 

"Very  well,"  said  he.  "Mary,  take  her  to  the 
nursery,  and  attend  to  any  of  her  wants." 

The  girl  opened  a  door  adjoining  that  which  we 
had  entered  by ;  a  narrow  hall  and  a  flight  of  stairs 
led  us  to  the  room  indicated. 

A  little  solitary  figure,  breathing  upon  the  window- 
glass,  and  tracing  thereon  letters  with  long,  thin  fin- 
gers, was  the  first  object  that  presented  itself  to  my  eye, 

"  Here  is  your  governess,  Herbert,"  said  Mary. 

The  little  boy  turned  and  surveved  me  with  his 
large,  blue,  mournful  eyes.  They  sent  a  quiver 
through  my  frame  from  their  strange  resemblance  to 
eyes  I  had  seen  but  the  night  before  in  my  dream. 

He  was  apparently  satisfied  with  his  inspection, 
and  his  thin  scarlet  lips  parted  into  a  smile. 

I  called  him  to  me.     He  came  forward  timidly. 

Taking  his  small  hand,  I  asked  him  a  few  ques- 
tions about  his  studies.  I  found  him  intelligent,  bnt 
grave  beyond  his  years ;  very  docile  and  obedient,  and 
ere  the  end  of  the  day  we  became  excellent  friends. 


72  CUAllLOTTE  BRONTE. 


CHAPTER  III. 

I  HAD  lived  six  weeks  at  Bristed  Hall,  and,  except- 
ing on  my  first  arrival,  had  not  interchanged  a  word 
with  its  master.  'Tis  true  I  would  see  him  at  times 
from  the  school-room  window,  walking  through  his 
park,  or  smoking  upon  the  long  piazza,  but  he  might 
have  been  across  the  ocean  for  all  the  intercoui*se  we 
had  together. 

It  was  early  June ;  roses  bloomed  on  every  hedge. 
A  season  of  dry  weather  had  succeeded  the  showers 
of  spring,  the  mornings  were  sparkling,  tlie  air  de- 
licious. I  arose  early  one  particularly  sunny  morn, 
that  I  might  take  a  walk,  before  the  studies  of  the 
day  commenced,  to  a  natural  lake  which  I  had  dis- 
covered about  a  mile  from  the  Hall. 

Herbert  begged  to  accompany  me,  and  I,  who 
loved  at  times  the  quiet  of  my  own  thoughts,  reluc- 
tantly granted  liis  request. 

We  strolled  out  of  the  inclosure,  and  were  lei- 
surely wending  our  way  over  the  road,  when  our 
attention  was  attracted  by  the  sound  of  wheels 
emerging  from  a  cross  path.  A  carriage  rolled 
briskly  in  view.  The  little  hand  of  my  companion, 
which  I  held  locked  in  mine,  trembled  violently. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Agnes,  Miss  Agnes ! "  he  cried,  point- 
ing to  the  occupant  of  the  carriage,  "  there  is  Uncle 
Kichard." 

As  it  neared  us,  the  driver  reined  in  his  horses, 
which  snorted  impatiently  as  he  paused,  and  a 
musical  voice  called  out : 


AGNES  BEEF.  73 

"  Hallo !  you  young  varlet ;  where  are  you  going 
so  early  in  the  morning  ?  " 

Herbert  answered  faintly,  "  I  am  going  wdth  Miss 
Reef  to  the  lake." 

The  gentleman  at  this  reply  waved  his  jewelled 
hand  gracefully  toward  me.  "  JMiss  Reef,  I  am  hap- 
py to  make  your  acquaintance.  .  So  you  are  the 
young  lady  who  has  undertaken  to  be  bored  with  my 
little  nephew  ? " 

"  He  is  not  a  bore,"  said  I,  smilingly,  captivated 
by  the  grace  and  abandon  of  the  traveller.  And 
truly  his  handsome  countenance  might  have  capti- 
vated a  girl  more  experienced  in  the  world's  ways 
than  myself.  His  was  a  gay,  spirited  face,  complex- 
ion fair  and  rosy ;  full  red  lips,  graced  with  a  curling 
moustache ;  golden  locks  fit  for  an  Adonis ;  sunny, 
dancing  eyes,  and  a  figure  rather  massive,  but  well 
formed.  Such  was  the  impression  I  received  of 
this  "  Uncle  Richard." 

"  Allow  me  to  give  you  a  seat  in  my  brougham," 
said  he. 

I  thanked  him,  but  refused. 

"Bound  on  some  romantic  expedition,"  he  said, 
laughing ;  "  I  can  see  it  in  your  beaming  eyes.  Well, 
I  suppose  I  must  continue  my  solitary  drive ;  but 
don't  tarry  long  at  the  dismal  lake;  hasten  back,  as  I 
shall  want  a  companion  to  chat  with  in  the  empty 
Hall. 

I  found  Herbert  unwilling  to  talk  about  his  uncle, 
so  I  tried  to  dismiss  the  new  comer  from  my  thoughts, 
and  engaged  with  my  pupil  in  gathering  wild  flow- 
ers and  grasses  wherewith  to  form  wreaths  and 
7 


74  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

houquets  to  adorn  onr  school-room.  After  rambling 
about  foj-  ;in  hour,  wo  turned  homeward. 

I  felt  (juite  excited  upon  reaching  the  Hall,  and 
hurried  to  my  room  to  smooth  my  hair  prcparatoiy 
to  commencing  the  labors  of  the  day.  If  I  stood 
over  my  mirror  longer  than  usual,  remember  I  was 
young,  and  had  -a  laudable  desire  to  please.  As  I 
surveyed  myself  in  the  glass,  I  was  guilty  of  a  plea- 
sural)le  cognizance  of  the  figure  and  face  reflected 
there.  Tlie  walk  and  unexpected  encounter  had 
given  an  unwonted  brilliancy  and  vivacity  to  my 
countenance.  My  cheeks  glowed  ;  my  eyes  sparkled ; 
and  from  my  chestnut  curls  depended  wild  flowers, 
and  Avreaths  of  IIerl)ert's  twining ;  altogether  a 
pleasing  picture  presented  itself  to  view,  which, 
Avithout  vanity,  I  was  thankful  to  behold. 

AVe  had  not  been  long  at  our  lessons  when  a  voice, 
gaily  singing,  approached  the  door,  and  without  the 
ceremony  of  knocking,  the  gentleman  whom  we  had 
passed  in  our  morning  ramble  entered  the  room. 

"  I  have  been  looking  all  over  for  you ;  why  are 
you  hiding  yourself  away  up  here?"  said  he,  merrily. 
"  Can  you  not  take  another  pupil,  Miss  Reef  ? "  at 
the  same  time  drawing  up  his  chair  to  the  table  at 
wliich  Ilerbei't  and  myself  were  seated. 

"  If  lie  is  as  tractaljle  as  Herbert,  I  might  venture," 
I  replied,  assuming  the  gay,  mocking  tone  of  my 
questioner. 

I  soon  saw  that  he  was  bent  on  remaining;  so, 
taking  from  my  desk  a  drawing-book  and  pencil,  I 
placed  them  before  him. 

"  There  is  your  task  ;  please  not  to  interrupt  me." 


AGyi:S  BEEF.  75 

I  was  deteraiiriecl  not  to  be  beguiled  from  my  duty 
by  this  gay  cavalier.  lie  ])ermitted  us  to  pursue  our 
studies  uniiiteiTirptedly  till  he  had  finished  his  draw- 

■  "  There,"  he  exclaimed,  placing  it  before  me. 
"  Will  you  not  reward  me  for  my  industry  ? " 

I  looked  at  the  sketch.  It  was  bold  and  clear, 
shaded  with  a  firm  hand,  spirited  and  original.  I 
was  truly  surprised  at  the  skill  evinced. 

After  that  day  he  visited  our  room  often,  calling 
in  during  the  morning  to  exchange  a  pleasant  word, 
or  at  the  close  of  the  school  hours  to  loiter  over  our 
drawings  and  chat  of  books  and  music.  His  visits 
began  to  grow  too  pleasant  to  me.  Some  effort  must 
be  made  on  my  side  to  render  them  less  attractive. 

One  afternoon  he  entered  as  usual,  and  waited 
patiently  till  Herbert  had  recited  his  closing  lesson. 
Then  he  arose,  and  taking  a  guitar  from  its  case, 
commenced  playing  and  singing  a  song  in  a  most 
bewitching  manner. 

"  Come,  Miss  Reef,"  said  he,  when  he  had  finished, 
"that  beautiful  hand  is  just  made  to  glide  over  this 
instrument.     Allow  me  to  give  you  a  lesson." 

Feeling  that  if  I  permitted  him  to  encroach  upon 
my  position  as  governess  I  would  be  lost,  I  refused. 
I  must  give  him  to  understand  that  I  know  my 
place  and  will  not  be  trifled  with,  I  thought ;  so  I 
arose  and  rang  the  bell  for  Mary.  She  soon  ap- 
peared, apparently  surprised  at  seeing  Mr.  Richard 
Bristed  so  much  at  home  hx  the  school-room. 

"  Mary,  sit  down ;  I  wish  you  to  hem  this  handker- 
chief for  Herbert,"  said  I. 


76  CUAULOTTE  BRONTE. 

She  seated  hci'self  with  my  work-box  before  her, 
and  commenced  plyinir  her  needle  industriously. 
The  young  gentleman  looked  on  my  arriingement 
witli  a  lurking  smile  for  a  few  moments,  and  then 
nttei'ing  a  long,  low  whistle,  arose  from  his  chair  and 
sauntered  out.     Passing  me,  he  whispered  : 

''I  will  remember  you  for  this.  Miss  Reef."  lie 
did  seem  to  remember  it,  as  several  days  elapsed 
without  his  presenting  himself. 

Once  I  met  him  in  the  hall,  and  he  merely  bowed. 
If  he  had  wished  to  arouse  in  me  an  interest  in  him- 
self, he  could  not  have  pursued  a  better  plan ;  for 
I  grew  restless  and  uneasy,  regretting  heartily  that  I 
had  offended  him. 


CILVPTER  IV. 

After  three  days  had  passed  thus,  I  concluded  1 
would  explain  to  him  my  motive.  Accordingly,  in 
the  afternoon,  when  my  hour  of  recreation  came,  I 
brushed  my  hair  carefully,  changed  my  dress,  and 
descended  to  the  piazza  on  which  he  generally 
loun'i-ed  in  the  afternoon  with  a  ci^-ar. 

As  he  was  not  there,  I  seated  myself  on  a  rustic 
chair  to  watch  for  him.  I  had  not  sat  many  min- 
utes when  I  heard  the  wheels  of  a  carriage  on  the 
gravel  path ;  then  the  gay  voice  of  Mr.  Richard  met 
my  ear.  I  turned :  he  was  seated  in  the  vehicle  with 
a  valise  beside  him,  and  was  apparently  bound  on  a 
journey.  As  he  (-auglit  sight  of  me,  he  raised  his 
hat,  bowed  distantly,  and  drove  off. 

A  dreary  sense  of  loneliness  crept  over  me.     The 


AGNES  REEF.  77 

setting  sun  filled  the  west  with  its  golden  splendor. 
Great  yellow  l>ars  of  sunlight  streamed  through  the 
railing,  and  lit  up  the  floor  of  the  piazza.  Sitting 
there  I  was  bathed  in  its  ruddy  flood.  Happy  birds 
poured  forth  their  evening  song  in  the  bushes  near 
by ;  l)ut  I  was  miserable  and  alone.  All  nature  seemed 
to  rejoice,  while  I,  her  child,  was  desolate. 

"  You  ap})ear  sad,  miss,"  said  a  voice  close  beside 
me.  I  looked  up  and  beheld  the  elder  Mr.  Bristed. 
He  had  evidently  observed  my  emotion,  and  his 
darlv  eye  looked  a  reproof  that  his  lips  did  not  utter. 

Presently,  he  seated  himself  near  me,  and  asked  a 
few  questions  as  to  the  progress  my  pupil  was 
making.  Having  satisfied  him  on  those  })oints,  he 
inquired  kindly  if  I  was  lonely  or  discontented. 

"  Oh,  no,"  I  answered,  heartily,  hoping  to  place  a 
barrier  to  any  further  inquiries  on  that  point. 

"  But  you  have'  been  weeping,"  said  he,  in  a  sub- 
dued voice. 

"Not  because  I  am  lonely,"  said  I,  resolved  to 
have  the  truth  out ;  "  but  I  fear  I  have  wounded  the 
feelings  of  your  brother." 

"My  brother!"  he  repeated.  "Ah!  you  have 
become  acquainted  with,  him?  He  is  bright  and 
glittering  like  the  sun ;  but  be  careful,  my  child,  be 
careful  I  Young  birds  should  avoid  the  glittering 
steel  of  the  fowler.  But  youth  will  seek  its  own  ex- 
perience," he  remarked,  with  a  deep  sigh.  "No 
friendly  warning  will  teach  the  young  to  beware  of 
danger.  But  consider  me  your  friend.  Miss  Reef, 
and  let  me  likewise  be  your  monitor." 

Without  waiting  for  my  reply,  he  hastily  left  me 
and  entered  the  house.  7* 


78  CUAIiLOTTE  BRONTE. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Four  weeks  elapsed  ere  Richard's  return.  During 
Lis  absence  Mr.  Bristed  showed  his  sympathy  for  my 
lonely  situation  by  many  little  attentions;  sending 
up  to  the  school-room,  now  and  then,  choice  fruit 
from  liis  hot-house,  or  a  bou(piet  of  conservatory 
flowers,  and,  several  times  in  the  early  evening,  he 
sent  for  me  to  read  aloud  to  him. 

I  found  him  to  be  a  quiet,  polished  gentleman ; 
and  I  grew  to  like  him,  and  to  look  for  his  tokens  of 
kindness  after  my  daily  lal)ors  with  growing  interest, 
and,  if  they  came  not,  to  feel  disappointed  and  un- 
happy. He  liad  travelled  much  and  could  talk  well, 
and  under  the  influence  of  a  sympathetic  listener,  his 
countenance  lit  up  with  kindly  emotion,  and  the  sad 
lines  of  his  face  disa})peared  beneath  a  happy  smile. 

But  in  the  glowing  midsunnncr  his  truant  brother 
returned,  and  my  new-born  interest  vanished  like 
snow  before  the  harvest  sun. 

Again  Mr.  Richard  exerted  his  varied  powers  to 
fascinate  and  amuse  nie.  Again  I  listened,  and 
struggled,  as  formerly,  against  his  wiles,  and  finally 
bent  a  too  willing  ear  to  his  soft  words  of  praise  and 
admiration.  AVith  secret  pleasure  I  reveled  in  his 
ardent  lanmiaw,  hu£rging  to  mv  heart  the  belief  that 


I  was  loved. 

How  that  summer  sped  by  on  its  golden  wings! 
Time  passed  on,  as  in  some  delicious  opium  dream ! 
And  when  the  short  days  and  long  nights  of  the 
Christmas  holidays  set  in,  I  found  myself  secretly 
engaffed  in  marriage  to  Richard  Bristed. 


AGNES  REEF.  79 

Of  our  plans  and  attachment  his  brother  was  not 
at  present  to  be  informed:  this  stern  brother  who 
shut  himself  up  apart  from  his  species,  and  who, 
Eichard  told  me,  was  of  too  cold  a  nature  to  sym- 
pathize with  love. 

"  He  will  dismiss  you,  Agnes,  if  he  hears  of  it,"  he 
said.  "  Wait  till  I  have  settled  up  my  affairs,  and 
then  he  can  do  his  worst." 

I  believed  this  statement ;  I  forgot  all  my  former 
good  impressions  of  Mr.  Bristed,  and  listened  to  the 
tales  that  were  told  me  of  how  he  had  wronged 
Eichard.  I  learned  to  regard  him  as  a  robber,  a 
hypocrite  whose  statements  could  not  be  relied  on ;  a 
false,  dark,  bad  man.  As  for  Eichard,  he  seemed  a 
king  in  comparison ;  a  noble,  magnanimous  being, 
whom  some  kind  fairy  had  bestowed  upon  me. 

But  that  cold,  relentless  Fate,  which  comes  to  tear 
off  the  painted  wrappings  of  life,  revealing  the  bare 
and  ugly  reality  beneath,  was  fast  pursuing  me. 

At  the  close  of  a  cold,  snowy  day,  I  had  retired 
early  to  my  room,  and  having  locked  the  door  that 
I  might  be  free  from  interruption,  sat  down  to  look 
over  the  dainty  articles  of  dress  which  I  had  been 
shyly  accumulating  for  my  approaching  marriage. 

It  was  but  a  scanty  outfit,  but  to  me  it  appeared 
munificent  as  that  of  a  princess.  I  could  never  weary 
of  looking  at  tliese  beautiful  garments ;  I  placed  them 
in  one  light,  and  then  hi  another;  I  folded  and 
unfolded  them,  and  finally  ended  by  trying  them  ou, 
and  admiring  in  the  mirror  their  perfect  adaptation 
to   my  face   and  figure.     A  long  time  must  have 


80  CnAltLOTTE  BliONTE. 

passed  in  \\\h  way,  when  the  hall  clock  stnick  the 
hour  of  niitlni^ht.  Astonished  at  the  lateness  of  the 
night,  I  tln-cw  down  the  laces  and  ribbons  which  I 
was  combining  into  some  aiiy  article  of  dress,  and 
was  preparing  to  remove  my  bridal  attire,  when  I 
was  amazed  to  hear  a  key  tnrning  in  the  lock  of  my 
door.  Fear  and  snrprise  nailed  me  to  tlie  floor.  The 
door  glided  softly  open  and  in  stepped  Mi'.  Ilichard 
Bristed  !     lie  seemed  surprised  to  see  me  thus. 

"What!  up  and  dressed?"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  loud 
whisper.  "  O  my  beauty !  my  wife !  I  have  come 
to  claim  you  to-night.  Yow  sliall  l)e  mine.  Ko 
power  on  earth  shall  withhold  us  now^ !  " 

"  How  strangely  you  talk,  Richard,"  said  I.  "  You 
forget  it  is  so  late.  AV^e  cannot  go  to  church  at  this 
hour." 

"  Ah,  dearest,  this  is  church !  See,  I  have  brought 
you  this  ring.  "We  will  stand  up  before  God  and  our 
own  hearts,  and  I  will  marry  you  here.  We  need  no 
other  witnesses  than  ourselves  and  this  rinc; ! " 

Though  my  youtliful  heart  was  Ijlinded  by  love 
and  passion,  1  was  not  prepared  for  this.  Excitement 
and  the  strangeness  of  the  proposition  overcame 
me,  and  I  broke  forth  into  sobs. 

He  endeavored  to  soothe  me,  urging  his  request 
with  a  pleading  force  which  I  could  scarcely  with- 
stand. 

"I  am  not  prepared,  Ilichard,"  said  I,  drying  my 
tears;  "this  is  so  sudden,  so  unlooked  for,  I  must 
liave  time  for  thought." 

But  thought  only  revealed  a  gaping  abyss,  from 
which  I  must  %. 


AGNES  BEEF.  81 

He  continued  to  urge  his  plea ;  but  seeing  I  would 
not  yield,  liis  countenance  changed.  The  sweet, 
seductive  smile  vanished.  He  grew  white  as  the 
moonbeam,  and,  clenching  his  hand  and  setting  his 
teeth,  bent  over  me,  whispering  huskily : 

"  Agnes,  I  shall  not  step  from  this  room  to-night. 
1  have  the  key.  You  have  promised  to  be  mine. 
You  shall  keep  that  .promise.  To-niglit  you  shall 
keep  tliat  promise ! " 

-  If  he  was  pale,  I  became  paler.  A  cold  chill  crept 
over  me.  But  I  took  my  resolution,  unyielding  as 
death,  not  to  grant  his  request. 

A  chasm  seemed  to  yawn  before  me.  The  loneli- 
ness and  f  riendlessness  of  my  position  were  presented 
to  my  mind  with  terrific  reality.  A  deadly  swoon- 
like feeling  ensued.  To  yield  in  this  might  seal  my 
fate.     I  paced  the  floor  rapidly,  praying  for  help. 

Help  came  suddenly.  As  I  passed  the  door  of  my 
wardrobe,  I  remembered  that  the  same  key  unlocked 
this  and  the  door  of  my  apartment.  I  drew  it  forth, 
and  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  I  -was  free. 

The  cool  air  from  the  outside  passage,  and  the 
prospect  of  liberty,  cooled  my  excited  nerves,  and 
revived  me  for  the  work  I  had  to  accomplish, 

"  Richard,"  said  I,  my  hand  upon  the  latch,  "  you 
or  I  must  leave." 

He  made  no  reply,  but  violently  rising  from  his 
hair,  grasped  something  that  lay  near  him,  and  tear- 
ing it  to  atoms,  rushed  by  me  without  word  or  look, 
and  reaching  tlie  stairs,  liastened  out  of  sight. 

Mechanically  I  sat  down,  and  with  sad,  straining 
eyes   surveyed    the  wreck  before  me.     My  bridal 


82  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

wreath  was  shivered  into  f  i-agments ;  its  white  petals, 
like  fruit  blossoms  cauijht  in  an  untimelv  Mast, 
sprinkled  the  floor ;  my  laces  were  in  shreds  like  the 
riven  mast  of  some  shipwrecked  vessel. 

Of  course  there  was  no  sleep  for  me  that  night. 
When  worn  ont  with  thinking  and  weeping,  I  drew 
a  large  easy  chair  up  to  the  door  and  sat  there  as 
guard,  listening,  with  the  hope  which  moment  after 
moment  grew  fainter,  that  he  would  return  and 
wliisper  in  my  M'illing  ear  a  sweet  demand  for  par- 
don, some  word  in  extenuation  for  his  unseemly 
conduct ;  but  he  came  not. 

Toward  daybreak,  I  was  aroused  from  the  lethargy 
into  "which  I  had  fallen  from  sheer  exhaustion  by 
the  sound  of  excited  voices  and  hurried  movements 
in  the  room  below.  As  these  sul)sided  and  the  gray 
morning  broke,  1  was  startled  by  the  sound  of  a 
horse's  hoofs  on  the  c:ravcled  walk. 

A  fearful  foreboding  possessed  me  ;  what  could  it 
mean?  Somebody  was  riding  away;  who  was  it? 
Through  the  gate  and  down  the  avenue  I  heard  the 
galloping  steed. 

I  dragged  my  nerveless  limbs  to  the  window  and 
peered  forth.  Clear  against  the  horizon,  now  streaked 
with  pale  crimson  rays  of  dawn,  rising  in  bold  relief 
I  beheld  the  recedino;  fi<>:ure  of  Richard  Bristed. 

He  was  leaving  mc  witliout  word  or  sign.  My 
head  reeled ;  I  grasped  the  window  casement  to 
steady  myself,  and  sank  insensible  upon  the  floor. 


AGNES  REEF.  83 


CHAPTER  VI. 


I  MUST  liave  remained  in  this  condition  some  hours, 
for  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens  when  I  opened 
my  eyes  and  became  conscious.  AVhere  was  I  ?  Not 
in  my  own  room,  surely ;  the  fragrance  of  exotics  did 
not  penetrate  my  lattice ;  the  simple  honeysuckle  that 
twined  around  my  window  breathed  forth  a  different 
perfume  from  this.  My  heart  gave  one  glad  leap. 
Oh,  it  is  all  a  dream !  I  thought ;  Richard's  gallop- 
ing down  the  road,  and  all  the  past  night's  misery  is 
a  dream !  With  this  rellection  a  happy  tranquility 
was  stealing  over  me,  when  I  heard  a  well-known 
voice  exclaim : 

"  Look,  Mary,  attend  her ;  she  has  opened  her  eyes, 
thank  God." 

It  was  Mr.  Bristed's  voice,  and  as  he  spoke  Mary 
approached  me,  and  bending  over,  bathed  my  head 
with  scented  water.  "  Hope  you  feel  better,  Miss," 
said  she. 

"  Have  I  been  ill,  Mary  ?     Where  am  I «" 

"  In  master's  library." 

Surely  it  was  so.  I  was  lying  upon  a  divan  near 
the  conservatory.  Alas,  I  was  not  dreaming !  I  sat 
up  and  looked  drearily  around,  and  as  I  did  so  Mr. 
Bristed  drew  near  with  a  beautiful  lily  in  liis  hand, 
which  he  offered  to  me.  He  inquired  kindly  after 
my  health  and  looked  pleased  when  I  told  him  I  felt 
quite  strong.  Indeed  I  did  feel  strong  for  the  mo- 
ment, and  arose  determined  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Sit  still  —  where  are  you  going  ? "  he  asked 
anxiously. 


84  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

"Goinsrto  the  school-room — o-oini'  to  see  Her- 
bert,"  1  replic(L 

''Herbert,"  said  he,  and  liis  countenance  darkened; 
"you  cannot  see  Herbert,  lie  is  ill." 

Not  gee  Herbert,  and  he  ill  %  What  could  be  the 
matter  ?     He  was  well  but  yesterday. 

I^Ir.  Bi-isted's  strange  manner,  coupled  with  Kich- 
ard's  absence  and  the  fearful  events  of  the  niffht, 
seemed  likely  to  turn  my  l)rain. 

He  saw  my  startled  look  of  inquiry,  and  said, 
"Be  quiet  awhile;  I  have  something  of  importance 
which  I  will  communicate  to  you  by-aud-by,  when 
you  are  composed." 

"  Mary,"  he  ordered,  "  ring  the  boll  for  breakfast 
to  be  sent  hither;-  meanwhile.  Miss  Reef,  while 
awaiting  our  coffee,  if  you  will  walk  with  me  in  the 
conservatory  I  will  take  pleasure  in  showing  you  my 
tropical  curiosities." 

I  followed  him  languidly  with  wandering  thoughts. 
Gradually,  however,  I  grew  interested  and  listened 
with  increased  attention  to  his  animated  description 
ol"  tlic  homes  and  haunts  of  the  wonders  by  which 
he  was  surrounded.  He  had  visited  many  climes, 
and  gathered  each  strange  flower  and  plant  he  had 
seen  in  its  native  clime.  He  became  eloquent  and 
genial  as  he  described  the  strange  habits  and  pecu- 
liarities of  Ins  floral  companions,  which  he  seemed  to 
regard  as  a  species  of  humanity ;  to  him  they  were 
not  inanimate  existences — creations  —  but  objects 
endowed  with  soul  and  sensation. 

While  \ve  were  thus  conversing,  Mary  announced 
that  breakfast  was  ready,  and  I  reluctantly  accompa- 


AONES  REEF.  85 

nicd  him  to  the  libraiy.  He  ahnost  compelled  me  to  eat, 
selecting  for  me  dainty  morsels  to  tempt  my  appetite. 

Mr.  Bristed  evidently  labored  under  some  mental 
disquiet,  Avhicli  he  evinced  by  undue  efforts  at  cheer- 
fulness. 

Breakfast  being  removed  I  sought  to  ^athdraw 
from  the  room,  but  he  requested  me  to  remain, 
and  dismissing  Mary,  seated  himself  in  an  easy  chair 
next  the  ottoman  on  which  I  rested,  and  warming  his 
hands  over  the  tire,  his  eyes  bent  upon  the  blaze, 
said,  with  an  abruptness  that  was  natural  to  him : 

"I  am  not  accustomed  to  concern  myself  about 
strangers.  Miss  Keef ,  but  in  you  I  have  felt  a  peculiar 
interest  since  the  day  we  first  met.  You  will  re- 
member I  warned  you  then  that  you  were  too  young 
for  the  responsibility  which  I  foresaw  awaited  you. 
I  feared  at  that  time  that  Richard,  on  seeing  so  bright 
a  flower,  would  endeavor  to  snatch  it  from  its  stem. 
My  fears  have  been  realized ;  you  see  I  am  acquainted 
with  what  has  taken  place,  and  now  the  hour  has 
come  when  you  and  I  must  part." 

"  Oh  no,"  cried  I  gaspingly,  "  not  yet,  not  yet." 

"  Miss  Eeef ,"  he  demanded  solemnly,  "  why  will 
you  delay  ?  I  understand  what  you  would  say ;  you 
desire  to  see  Richard  again,  but  that  can  never  be ; 
you  have  looked  your  last  upon  him  in  this  life.  I 
know  his  magnetic  influence  over  you ;  once  again 
under  that  influence  you  are  lost !  " 

I  did  not  like  what  he  said.     He  overstepped  the 
bounds  of  courtesy,  I  thought.     The  warning  which 
Richard  had  given  me  against  him  revived  in  force 
and  I  recoiled  from  him,  saying : 
8 


86  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

"  Sir,  your  l^rother  is  my  friend ;  I  can  listen  to 
notliinj;  in  his  disfavor." 

lie  siirlied,  "Ah,  Ay-nes,  vouare  but  a  child.  The 
sun  just  rising  above  yonder  horizon  must  soon  be 
darkened ;  1  see  the  gathering  cloud  and  would  warn 
you  of  the  approaching  storm.  AVliy  will  you  turn 
from  me  when  I  desire  to  help  you?" 

His  musical  voice  was  so  sympathetic  that  it  moved 
me  deeply;  but  I  shook  my  head  and  answered  pas- 
sionately, "  I  cannot  trust  you.  You  wrong  him,  and 
would  compel  me  to  wrong  him  too." 

"  My  child,"  said  he  sadly,  "  1  had  hoped  to  have 
saved  you  from  further  anguish,  but  perhaps  it  is 
best  that  you  should  know  all.     Come  with  me." 

He  opened  the  door  and  led  me  to  a  room  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  hall.  1  knew  it  to  be  the  room 
where  Herbert  slept. 

"  Let  us  go  in,"  he  whispered. 

AVe  entered  softly:  the  apartment  was  darkened, 
but  a  dainty  crib  which  occupied  the  centre  of  the 
floor  could  be  dimly  seen.  As  we  stepped  in,  his 
nurse,  who  was  bending  over  the  cot,  moved  with 
hushed  footsteps  away  to  give  us  room. 

Tliere  he  lay,  my  dear,  sick  lamb!  1  was  so  glad 
to  be  permitted  to  see  him.  But  the  result  of  no  or- 
dinary sickness  met  my  eye. 

Great  purple  rings  had  settled  around  his  closed 
eyelids,  his  lips  were  blue,  his  sweet  mouth  partly 
opened,  lie  seemed  to  breathe  with  difficulty.  1  could 
not  speak.  Mr.  Bristed  turned  down  the  coverlet 
from  tlie  little  shoulders. 

"  Look,  Miss   Reef,"  said   he   hoarsely,  his   voice 


A0NE8  REEF.  87 

q^uivering  witli  agitation,  pointing  to  some  hideous 
marks  on  the  little  sufferer's  throat  —  "those  are  his 
linger  marks." 

I  sickened.  "What  crime  was  this  that  he  hinted 
at  so  strangely  ?  But  the  insinuation  was  too  incred- 
ible. Tiie  thought  that  he  was  working  on  my 
credulity  exasperated  me. 

"  If  you  want  me  to  leave  your  house,  Mr.  Bristed, 
command  me  and  I  will  go,  but  you  cannot  force  me 
to  believe  this  horrid  inference." 

He  must  have  felt  the  disdain  with  which  I 
spurned  him,  for  he  turned  upon  his  heel  and  left 
the  room. 

I  then  spoke  to  Herbert.  At  the  sound  of  my 
voice  he  moved,  and  I  seated  myself  by  his  side. 
Quietness  seemed  desirable,  and  I  was  not  inclined 
to  break  it.  Now  and  then  I  moistened  his  lips  with 
a  little  wine  and  water.  Seeing  that  I  still  sat  by 
the  crib,  the  nurse  lay  down  upon  a  settee  and  fell 
asleep. 

Hours  thus  passed.  The  days  were  short  and  twi- 
light came  on  rapidly.  Sitting  there  in  the  gather- 
ing gloom,  I  began  to  hum  inadvertently  a  little  song 
which  Herbert  loved  me  to  sinsr  to  him.  Ilearino; 
my  voice  chant  his  favorite  ditty,  the  poor  little  crea- 
ture stirred  in  his  crib,  and  his  pale  lips  parted  into 
a  smile.  Presently,  in  broken  tones  he  asked,  "Is 
that  Miss  Pteef?" 

"  Yes,  Herbert,  darling,  I  have  come  to  sing  to 
you,"  said  I,  mastering  my  emotions  and  chirruping 
more  loudly  his  beloved  song. 

The  effect  seemed  truly  magical — he  endeavored 


88  CUARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

to  raise  up  his  little  body.  "  Oli,  sing  it  again,"  ho 
cried. 

"  Would  you  like  to  sit  upon  my  knee  ?" 

lie  nodded  assent,  and  I  made  an  effort  to  lift  liim 
up,  but  he  was  -weak  and  heavy,  and  I  not  sufficiently 
strong  to  sustain  liim.  As  he  fell  back,  my  eyes 
canglit  sight  again  of  those  fearful  marks.  Some 
power  outside  of  myself  forced  me  to  ask,  "  Herbert, 
what  ails  your  throat ;  has  any  one  hurt  you  ?" 

At  the  question,  a  tremor  fearful  to  witness  passed 
through  his  frame,  and  looking  at  me  with  an  expres- 
sion of  preternatural  intelligence,  he  whispered,  "  He 
tried  to  choke  me." 

Stunned  with  horror  at  this  again  repeated  asser- 
tion, I  sank  down  and  buried  my  face  in  my  hands. 
I  could  think  l)ut  one  thought,  and  that  was  a  wish 
that  I  were  dead  ! 


CHAPTER  VII. 

EuT  my  nature  would  not  permit  me  at  such  a 
crisis  to  remain  passive  long.  I  must  arouse  myself 
and  act.  Calling  the  nurse  to  take  my  place,  I  went 
to  seek  Mr.  Bristed.  I  found  liim,  as  usual,  in  his 
library. 

"Sir,"  said  I,  "I  am  calm  now;  \vill  you  not  ex- 
plain to  me  this  frightful  mystery?  I  will  listen  and 
thank  you." 

lie  placed  a  chair  for  mc  to  be  seated,  and  taking 
my  hand,  said  gently: — 

"  Miss  Reef — Agnes,  you  are  too  weak  to  hear  this 
that  you  seek  to  know." 


AGNES  BEEF.  89 

"No,  no,"  I  exclaimed,  vehemently;  "I  am  not 
weak ;  I  must  know  all." 

He  arose  and  paced  tlie  floor  hnrriedly  for  a  few 
moments ;  then  muttering,  "  It  is  best — I  will  tell  her," 
he  said : 

"  You  have  been  surprised,  no  doubt,  Agnes,  at  the 
frankness  with  wliich  I  have  expressed  my  opinion 
of  Eichard's  character  —  let  me  inform  you  that  he 
and  I  are  not  brothers.  He  is  a  half-brother,  the 
oifspring  of  my  father's  second  marriage;  though 
indeed  I  doubt  if  he  have  a  right  to  even  that  rela- 
tionship. I  have  heard  dark  hints  thrown  out  that 
my  father  had  been  deceived,  and  that  this  child 
who  claimed  to  be  his  son  should  look  in  a  lower 
quarter  for  his  fatiier.  Richard's  mother  was  not  a 
woman  of  iiigh  moral  principle,  and  he  partakes  of 
her  nature.  My  father  provided  for  him  well,  but 
as  I  was  the  elder  son  the  bulk  of  his  large  property 
became  mine  by  inheritance ;  but  liichard  has  always 
made  the  Hall  his  home  when  in  England  —  indeed, 
he  has  a  legal  right  during  his  lifetime  to  the  use  of 
the  room  he  occupies.  lie  has  not,  however,  often 
availed  himself  of  this  right  since  I  have  had  his  son 
Herbert  under  my  protection." 

"  His  son  Herbert  V     I  repeated,  mechanically. 

"  Yes,  poor  child,  his  son ;  though  the  boy  has  al- 
ways been  taught  to  call  him  uncle.  ]S«  either  Richard 
nor  myself  desire  the  relationship  to  be  known,  and 
it  is  only  in  hope  of  serving  you  that  I  reveal  it."  . 

"  Richard  married  ? "  I  said,  f alteringly. 

"  Ah,  Agnes,  there  are  many  women  whom  he 
should  never  have  seen,  as  he  could  not  marry  them," 
8* 


90  CmUiLOTTE  BRONTE. 

said  he,  with  the  slow  determination  of  a  man  re- 
solved on  littering  a  repulsive  truth.  Herbert's 
mother  was  a  l)eautif ul  hut  penniless  orphan  of  good 
family,  who  visited  this  house  some  years  since  in  the 
capacity  of  com})anion  to  our  great-aunt. 

During  that  visit  I  became  enamoured  with  lier, 
and  we  were  secretly  engaged  in  marriage.  It  was 
before  the  death  of  my  father,  and  I  was  not  my  own 
master;  but  I  loved  her  truly,  and  meant  well  by 
her,  only  desiring  her  to  wait  till  I  should  be  free 
to  please  myself.  But  Richard  ste})ped  in  between 
me  and  my  happiness.  He  stole  this  girl's  heart  from 
me ;  gained  lier  love  as  he  has  endeavored  to  obtain 
yours,  by  flattery  and  dissimulation  —  you  see  I  am 
not  wily  and  smooth  enough  to  please  women  —  but 
also  he  destroyed  her  peace  under  promise  of  mar- 
riage; leaving  her  soon  after  and  going  abroad  with- 
out acquainting  her  with  his  purpose. 

"  I  was  temporarily  from  home  when  this  occurred. 
On  returning  in  the  course  of  a  month,  Eichard  lied, 
as  I  have  stated;  but  I  was  ignorant  then  of  the 
cause,  and  it  was  not  till  in  the  agony  of  shame  she 
came  to  me  for  help  with  her  secret,  that  I  l)ecame 
aware  of  his  perfidy, 

"  I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  gave  her  all  the  aid  in 
my  power ;  her  chikl  Herbert  was  born  and  secretly 
cared  for.  When  he  was  about  two  years  old,  tlie 
great-aunt  of  whom  I  liave  spoken  died,  leaving  a 
large  proportion  of  her  })roperty  to  Alice,  of  whose 
misfortune  she  had  never  dreamed. 

""Wealth  came  to  the  unfortunate  girl  too  late. 
The  shock  she  had  received  from  Ilichard's  deceit 


AONES  REEF.  91 

had  preyed  upon  her  health,  and  she  was  failing 
rapidly,  when  he,  hearing  of  her  good  fortune,  re- 
turned home. 

"  With  his  specious  address  he  might  have  regained 
his  old  ascendancy  over  her  had  I  not  interfered. 
You  know  well,  Agnes,  his  peculiar  gift  of  fascina- 
tion. I  believe  he  could  by  some  unexplainable  psy- 
chological process  make  any  great  wrong  appear 
right  to  a  woman.  But  I  induced  her  to  bequeath 
her  wealth  to  Herbert,  and  secure  it,  for  a  time  at 
least,  beyond  Richard's  control  —  and  he  owes  me  a 
grudge  for  it. 

"  Herbert,  she  left  under  my  care,  unless,  of  his  own 
free  will,  he  chose  to  reside  with  Richard,  who  in 
that  case  was  to  become  his  guardian ;  and  in  the 
event  of  Herbert's  death  before  reaching  his  ma- 
jority, tlie  whole  property  was  to  revert  to  Richard 
Bristed.  You  see  she  loved  him  still.  Unjust  but 
womanlike,  her  love  was  stronger  than  her  judg- 
ment. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  after  eyeing  me  thoughtfully, 
"you  listen  as  if  you  did  not  i-ightly  comprehend 
what  I  ]iave  been  saving !  "    - 

I  was  indeed  stunned  by  his  communication. 
Could  it  be,  I  thought,  with  suppressed  fear,  that  tho 
shadowy  figure  which  had  haunted  my  bed-chamber 
and  had  visited  me  in  dreams  was  the  same  wronge-d 
Alice  ?  Had  she  arisen  from  her  grave  beneath  the 
granite  of  the  (-hurch-yard  to  warn  me  ?  Or  are  the 
dead  jealous  of  their  rights'?  Do  they  cling  to  their 
earthly  love  ?  I  queried.  But  when  he  spoke  I  shook 
off  these  thoughts  that  were  rising  like  mist  to  ob- 


92  CnABLOTTE  imOKTE. 

scuro  my  jude^iiiciit,  und  answered,  " /uni.  I  am 
listeninji; ;  ])roceed," 

"  Ai:;iies,  tlir(»n_<2;li  your  iniluence  Hicliard  lias  hoped 
to  obtain  possession  of  Herbert  and  control  over  liis 
fortune,  lie  has  thought  to  entrap  you  as  he  did 
Alice,  and  throuijh  liis  power  over  you  lias  calculated 
to  carry  nut  tlie  jiroject  of  his  proliiic  brain." 

Till  this  moment  I  had  listened  silently  to  his 
strange  recital,  but  I  could  not  brook  this  insinua- 
tion. The  story,  to  my  mind,  did  not  appear  clear. 
How  could  Iticluird  expect  to  obtain,  througli  my 
agency,  possession  of  a  sou  whom  he  had  never  ac- 
knowled<2:ed?  'Tis  true  I  remembered  him  to  have 
said  that  he  feared  I  woidd  miss  my  })upil  ^•cry 
nnich.  lie  had  asked  playfully  what  would  Herbert 
do  without  me,  but  he  had  not  suggested  taking  the 
child  away  with  us,  and  therefore  Mr.  Bristed's 
(charge  appeared  to  my  mind  unfoimded,  and  I  told 
him  so. 

"Ah,  my  child!"  he  replied,  "you  know  not  the 
devising  power  of  this  nuxn.  He  has  an  agent  here 
in  tills  place,  in  the  shape  of  old  Crisp,  the  hunch- 
back. It  has  been  his  plan,  under  promise  of  mar- 
riage, to  deco}^  you  from  this  house;  he  would  prob- 
ably have  left  his  child  to  (Jrisp's  good  agency,  with 
orders  to  join  you.  Herbert  loves  you,  and  would 
have  gone  willingly  in  your  company,  but  alone  with 
Itichard  he  would  not  have  moved  one  step.  Once 
out  of  my  reach  in  some  distant  city,  he  would  have 
had  the  reins  in  liis  own  hand.  It  was  by  an  unex- 
pected, but  I  hope  fortunate  chance,  tliat  I  overheard 
a  conversation  to  this  effect  between  him  and  the 


AGNES  BEEF.  93 

deformed  servant.  I  could  not  ascertain  the  day  set 
for  this  adventure,  but  I  surmised  that  it  was  at  no 
remote  date,  and  I  liave  kept  alert.  You  have 
avoided  me,  Miss  Reef,  and  I  have  been  obliged  to 
watch  your  movements  distantly.  Not  from  suspi- 
cion of  you,  for  I  know  you  to  be  pure  and  honor- 
able, but  because  you  are.  under  my  protection,  and 
because" — he  hesitated  —  I  wondered  what  was  com- 
ing next.  I  had  a  presentiment  that  he  was  about  to 
make  an  avowal  which  I  ought  to  shun,  but  before  I 
could  evade  him  he  turned  suddenly  toward  me,  his 
face  white  with  emotion,  and  continued  —  "  I  love  you, 
Agnes,  though  it  is  no  time  now  to  speak  of  nly  pas- 
sion, and  have  watched  over  you  as  a  father,  a 
brother,  a  lover  would  watch." 

This  announcement  affected  me  more  than  I  care  to 
confess,  considering  I  did  not  return  his  love,  but  it 
was  the  allusion  to  his  sheltering  care  that  moved  me. 

"  Yes,  I  have  watched  over  you ;  orphan  that  you 
are,  you  need  some  guardian  care.  I  knew  by  your 
frequent  journeys  to  the  village,  by  your  cloistering 
in  your  own  apartment,  and  more  than  all,  by  your 
speaking  countenance,  that  you  were  preparing  for 
some  great  event  in  your  life. 

"  Last  night  I  could  not  sleep ;  1  laid  my  head  upon 
my  pillow,  but  finding  it  impossible  to  close  my  eyes 
I  arose  and  dressed.  Sitting  by  my  window  I 
thought  I  heard  a  commotion  in  your  room.  I  lis- 
tened until  my  surmises  grew  into  certainty.  The 
hour  was  midnight,  and  your  door,  which  at  that  sea- 
son is  usually  closed  like  a  cloister-gate,  swung  on  its 
hinges. 


94  CUARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

"This  alarmed  me;  I  unlocked  my  door  and  looked 
out.  Soon  a  hasty  step  retreating  from  your  chamber 
met  my  ear.  Desccndino;  tlic  Btairs,  this  untimely 
visitor  entered  the  room  wlicre  Herbert  lay  sleepiu"'. 
A  stranc;c  suspicion  came  over  me.  Can  the  intruder 
be  Icichard?  I  thought.  If  so,  Avhat  was  he  doing  at 
that  hour  of  the  nis-ht?  1  seized  a  lio:hted  candle 
and  ruslic(l  to  the  boy's  apartment, and  there  I  found 
Richard,  maddened,  and  beside  himself  with  liquor 
and  frenzy.  I  was  just  in  time  to  save  Herbert's  life 
from  his  insane  fury. 

"  I  know  not  what  had  occurred  between  you  and 
him,  Agnes,  but  this  I  know,  he  had  failed  in  some 
diabolical  plot  he  had  contemplated.  (Chance  or  a 
friendly  Providence  had  thwarted  his  purpose.  I 
had  him  in  my  power,  and  compelled  him  to  leave 
the  house,  not  to  return  until  you  have  been  removed 
^^here  he  will  never  find  you. 

"  I  cannot  leave  my  beautiful  bird,  my  pet  dove, 
where  the  charms  of  this  wily  serpent  may  ensnare 
her." 

He  ceased.  My  eyes  were  diy,  my  heart  turned 
to  stone.  I  arose,  and  mechanically  moved  toward 
the  door. 

"  Where  are   you   going,   Agnes  ?     Tell   me  of 
your  plans ;  regard  me  as  your  friend,  I  beg."' 

"  Take  me  away  —  take  me  away,"  I  cried  hysteri- 
cally ;  "  I  must  go !  Oh,  oh,  oh ! "  I  should  have  fallen, 
but  he  caught  me  in  his  arms. 


AGNES  REEF.  95 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

On  reviving  came  the  dread  feeling  that  I  must 
go.  Go  whither?  I  had  no  home.  I  could  not 
return  to  my  uncle  who  had  cast  me  adrift.  The  in- 
quisitive glance  of  his  grim  housekeeper  would  anni- 
hilate me.     But  go  I  must,  and  that  speedily. 

With  weary  head  and  aching  heart  I  commenced 
packing  my  little  wardrobe.  My  bridal  attire  I  has- 
tily covered  from  sight  that  it  might  i-emain  until 
time  and  mildew  should  obliterate  it.  My  dream  of 
love  was  past,  I  felt  that  my  youth  and  beauty  were 
buried  in  that  crushed  pile  of  broken  flowers,  pale 
silk,  and  dishevelled  lace. 

I  had  concluded  my  work,  and  was  tying  my  Idou- 
net-strings,  when  a  knock  at  the  door  announced  Mr. 
Bristed.  He  appeared  surprised  at  seeing  me  ar- 
ranged for  my  journey. 

"  So  soon,  Agnes  ? "  said  lie.  "  You  are  not  yet  able 
to  leave." 

But  as  I  expressed  very  emphatically  my  ability 
and  determination  to  start  immediately,  he  saw  ex- 
postulation would  be  useless. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  let  me  hear  where  you  contem- 
plate going." 

I  told  him  I  should  take  the  railway  or  coach  to 
some  point,  I  cared  not  where ;  any  distant  city 
or  villaere  from  whence  I  could  advertise  for  another 
situation.  I  was  too  hopeless  then  to  care  whither  I 
went. 

"  And  do  you  think  I  would  permit  you  to  leave 
me  thus  at  random,  going,  you  know  not  where,  with- 


96  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

out  any  preconceived  plans?  Oh  my  poor,  poor 
child,  to  he  thrown  tluis  ujDon  the  world!" 

lie  walked  the  lloor  8e\eral  times,  apparently  in 
great  agitation ;  then,  suddenly  })ausing,  said  abruptly, 
ahnost  violently,  "  It  must  not  be  !  Agnes,  don't  go," 
lowering  his  voice,  and  'placing  his  hand  gently  on 
my  shoulder;  "stay  witli  me  —  become  my  wife.  I 
love  you  and  will  cherisli  you,  i*\o  rude  Ijlast  that 
my  arm  can  shield  you  from  shall  assail  you.  My 
life  has  been  one  of  gloom,  you  can  render  it  one  of 
sunshine.  Stay,  dear  one,  oh,  stay ! "  and  in  his 
transport  he  seized  my  hands. 

"  AVhat  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Bristed  ?  "  said  I,  recoil- 
ing from  him.  "  Surel}',  you  must  forget  yourself 
and  the  circumstances  which  have  so  recently  oc- 
curred ;  you  have  accused  me  of  loving  your  brother, 
how,  then,  can  I  transfer  my  affections  to  you  ?  Oh, 
you  are  cruel,  cruel !  " 

"  Forgive  me,"  said  he,  penitently ;  "  I  will  do  any- 
thing for  you,  Agnes  —  take  you  away,  if  you  wish; 
only  let  me  go  with  you  and  see  that  you  are  pro- 
perly cared  for." 

I  shook  my  head. 

"  Richard  may  seek  to  lind  you ;  you  may  fall 
again  into  his  evil  hands  if  you  insist  on  going  thus 
alone." 

"  Mr.  Bristed,"  said  I,  "  thus  far  I  have  acted  as 
you  directed.  I  will  depart  at  your  solicitation ; 
but  furtlier  than  this,  I  must  be  fi'ee.  If  Richard 
seeks  me  out,  and  I  can  aid  him,  I  will  do  so.  De- 
graded and  fallen  thougli  he  be,  my  love  will  not 
shrink  from  Imn.     I  will  help  him  to  rise." 


AGj^ES  beef.  97 

"You  are  a  noble  woman,  Agnes,"  he  said  with  a 
sad  smile,  "  God  protect  3'on  !  "  and  he  left  me. 

As  he  went  out,  I  heard  him  order  the  carriage. 
The  ser\ang-man  came  for  my  luggage,  and  I  sum- 
moned courage  to  pay  a  farewell  visit  to  Herbert. 

The  poor  little  invalid  became  very  much  excited 
at  seeing  me,  and  clung  so  tightly  about  my  neck 
that  it  was  with  effort  I  could  leave.  I  did  not  then 
inform  him  of  my  intended  departure,  and  with  an 
aching  heart  and  forced  smile  I  parted  from  the  dear 
sufferer. 

1  met  Mary  in  the  hall ;  she  told  me  Mr.  Bristed 
had  ordered  her  to  accompany  me  on  my  journey. 

I  did  not  want  her  company,  my  mind  craved  soli- 
tude; I  would  not  have  her.  I  sought  her  master, 
and  told  him  so.  "At  a  time  like  this  I  must  be 
alone,"  said  I,  excitedly ;  "  I  want  no  spy  upon  my 
actions.  I  will  go  wherever  you  wish  me  to  go, 
but  let  me  proceed  alone." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  musingly,  "  I  desire  but  to  serve 
you.  Go  to  the  town  of  M.,  present  this  letter  ac- 
cording to  its  directions.  You  refuse  my  further  aid, 
but  if  ever  you  need  a  friend,  send  for  me ;  otherwise, 
I  will  never  trouble  you." 

I  answered  that  I  would  do  as  he  requested,  and 
with  a  hea^j  heart  entered  his  carriage,  which  was 
waiting  to  diive  me  to  the  railway  station. 


9 


9B  GUAR  LOT!  E  BRONTE. 


CIIAPTEK  TX. 


I  WILL  pass  over  my  joui-iicy,  and  the  lonely,  mis- 
erable days  wliich  succeeded  my  arrival  in  M.  I 
made  fi-uitless  effort  to  obtain  service,  and  waited 
and  watched  for  an  application  in  my  dreary  lodg- 
ings until  my  small  hoard  of  wages  was  nigh  ex- 
hausted. 

I  had  been  in  the  city  a  fortnight,  broken  in  spirit 
and  dejected  by  want  of  success,  when  I  liappened  to 
bethink  me  of  tlie  letter  Mr.  Bristed  had  given  me. 

I  took  it  from  its  undisturbed  nook  in  my  trunk, 
and  having  read  the  superscription,  set  about  to  find 
the  party  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  The  direction 
led  me  to  a  lar2:e  manufacturing  establishment. 

The  gentleman  to  whom  it  was  written  apjieared 
to  be  a  foreigner.  Having  presented  the  epistle  to 
him,  he  perused  it  liastily,  then  taking  my  hand  with 
ffreat  eao-erness,  lie  exclaimed : 

"  O  Mees !  I  am  greatly  honored.  Mons.  33risteed 
is  my  very  good  friend ;  I  well  acquaint  with  him 
in  Paris.  I  congratulate  you  on  having  one  so  grand 
a  gentleman  for  your  acquaintance.  He  tell  me  you 
look  for  a  school." 

"  Yes,  sir, "  said  I,  glad  to  find  my  tastes  had  been 
studied ;  "  I  do  desire  a  school." 

"I  will  assist  with  pleasure,  Mees.  Be  seated;  in 
a  few  moments  I  will  accompany  you," 

I  sat  down,  wondering  wliitlier  the  gay,  loquacious 
gentleman  would  lead  me. 

lie  soon  rejoined  me,  hat  in  hand. 

"Will  you  accept  my  escort,  Mees;  the  place  is 


AGNns  REEF.  99 

near  by,"  said  he,  reading  the  note.    "  No.  14  B , 

street.     Will  you  walk,  or  shall  I  call  a  cab  % " 

"  I  will  walk,"  I  answered,  scarcely  knowing  wliat 
reply  was  expected.  As  we  turned  the  corner  of  the 
street  I  ventured  to  ask : 

"  Is  it  to  some  school  you  are  guiding  me  % " 

"Ah,  Mees,"  said  he,  rubbing  his  hands  together 
and  laughing,  "  it  is  some  great  secret.  Mons.  Bris- 
teed  would  surprise  you.  Have  a  leetle  patience, 
and  all  will  be  divulo-ed." 

"We  walked  rapidly  for  a  space  and  then  paused 
before  a  handsome  building. 

Entering  the  courtyard,  we  rang  the  silver  bell.  A 
servant  answered  our  summons  and  invited  us  in. 
Seated  in  the  drawing-room,  I  heard  the  buzz  of 
many  voices. 

"Is  it  an  academy?"  I  whispered  to  Monsieur 
Pilot,  my  conductor.     He  smiled  encouragingly. 

"  This  is  a  young  ladies'  seminary,  Mees." 

Before  I  could  question  further,  the  room  door 
opened,  and  a  lady  of  tall,  imposing  figure  entered. 

Monsieur  Pilot  commenced  a  vehement  conversa- 
tion with  her  in  French.  She  responded  in  the  same 
tongue.  The  dialogue  ended,  he  turned  to  me  and 
said : 

"Mees  Reef,  permit  me  to  introduce  you  to 
Madame  Fontenelle." 

Madame  smiled  very  graciously  upon  me,  and  then 
recommenced  the  gesticulation  and  babble  of  the 
two.  At  length  she  appeared  satisfied  with  the  un- 
derstanding at  which  they  arrived.  I  was  growing 
uneasy  at  their  prolonged  volubility,  when  Monsieur 
Pilot  pirouetted  up  to  me,  and  said : 


IGO  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

"  Mces  Reef,  I  beg  to  congratulate  yon.  Madame 
consents  to  transfer  this  mansion  into  your  hands, 
She  accepts  our  recommendation  and  that  of  your 
own  intellitrcnt  countenance.  Mons.  Bristeed  was  not 
mistaken  in  the  impression  you  would  make.  I  wish 
you  joy  in  having  become  the  proprietress  of  this 
splendid  institution." 

"How,"  I  cried  in  astonishment;  "I  proprietor? 
I  do  not  understand.     Please  explain." 

Madame  looked  blandly  on ;  my  remarks  were 
evidently  imintelligil)le  to  her. 

"  It  is  a  very  onerous  and  responsible  position.  Ma- 
demoiselle"— shrugging  her  shoulders — "I  should  not 
like  to  advise  you.  Do  you  comprehend  the  extent 
of  the  undertaking  ?  I  should  not  be  willing  to  trust 
my  pupils  in  timid  hands." 

Iler  remarks  stung  me,  and  gave,  I  presume,  the 
favorable  turn  to  my  destiny,  for  I  felt  the  power  to 
midertake  a  task  which  I  would  before  have  shrunk 
from. 

"  I  will  do  my  duty  in  all  cases  to  the  best  of  my 
ability,  madame ! "  was  my  brief  reply. 

"Ah,  you  do  not  comprehend,  Madame,"  said 
Monsieur  Pilot,  coming  briskly  to  the  rescue.  "  This 
is  a  surprise  to  Mees  Reef.  My  very  good  fi-iend 
Monsieur  Bristeed  has  not  apprised  the  young  lady 
of  his  bounty.  I  have  his  commission  to  purchase 
for  her  this  establishment,  which  he  is  aware  you 
desire  to  dispose  of,  Madame.  His  recommendation 
of  the  young  lady  is  surely  sufficient." 

"  The  Avhole  establishment  V  I  asked,  with  an  effort 
at  composure. 


A0NE8  REEF.  101 

"  Yes,"  replied  Madame.  "  I  am  obliged  to  start 
for  the  West  Indies,  and  must  dispose  of  all.  The 
present  instructors  are  thoroughly  competent  for 
their  various  positions ;  they  merely  need  a  super- 
visor. You  appear  young,  but  I  presume  experience 
has  fitted  you  for  the  office." 

"  Eminently  so,  eminently,"  answered  Monsieur 
Pilot  promptly,  as  if  he  had  been  guardian  of  my 
reputation  for  years.  "  We  will  consider  the  arrange- 
ments as  complete,  my  dear  Madame.  I  will  call 
to-morrow  and  close  the  transaction.  JBon  jour, 
Madame." 

And  with  rapid  strides  he  hurried  me  away. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  school  became  mine.  By  vigilance  and  per- 
severance, I  not  only  retained  the  pupils  Madame 
had  transmitted  to  my  care,  but  added  many  thereto. 

Monsieur  Pilot,  lively  and  friendly,  visited  me  fre- 
quently. I  liked  the  little  Frenchman;  his  gaiety 
served  to  divert  my  mind  from  reflections  on  the 
past,  which  like  spectres  would  sometimes  stalk 
grimly  before  me  when  unoccupied,  I  sought  the 
quiet  of  my  own  chamber. 

With  my  increasing  success,  my  pupils'  interest 
fully  occupied  every  moment  of  my  time.  Mean- 
time, not  a  line  or  word  reached  me  from  Bi-isted 
Hall.  Upon  my  installment  as  proprietor  of  Madame's 
seminary,  I  had  written  to  Mr.  Bristed,  thanking 
him  for  his  kindness,  and  informing  liim  that  I 
9* 


102  CIIAELOTTE  BRONTE. 

should  take  measures  to  repay  the  expenditures  lie 
had  incurred  in  my  behalf,  l»y  placiuij^  quarterly  in 
the  hands  of  Monsieur  Pilot  u  sum  such  as  I  could 
spare  from  my  income,  by  means  of  which  I  hoped 
in  time  to  repay  my  external  indebtedness. 

The  only  reply  I  received* to  this  letter  was  a  per- 
emptory refusal,  sent  through  Monsieur  Pilot,  to 
accept  any  return, 

I  liad  been  more  than  a  year  in  my  new  home. 
Constant  employment  had  developed  my  mind,  and 
I  flattered  myself  on  having  accpiired  a  wisdom  and 
sedatencss  such  as  ten  years  of  quiet  experience 
could  not  have  given  me.  But  of  this  I  was  lament- 
ably mistaken. 

Of  my  silly  yielding  to  circumstances  which  fol- 
low, the  reader  must  not  judge  too  harshly.  1 
was  still  but  an  immature  wonum,  not  yet  twenty; 
the  glamour  of  youth  still  hung  over  me.  I  craved 
human  love,  and  took  the  first  that  presented  itself, 
just  as  any  other  ardent,  imaginative  girl  in  my 
place  would  have  done. 

One  night  late  in  autumn,  when  the  sharp  winds 
were  already  giving  signals  of  the  coming  winter,  of 
leafless  trees  and  frozen  ground,  feeling  the  usual 
sadness  which  accompanies  this  season  of  the  year, 
I  walked  out  upon  the  piazza  in  front  of  the  house, 
looking  down  upon  the  street.  I  thought  the  keen 
air  would  put  my  blood  in  more  active  circulation, 
and  thus  dispel  from  my  mind  the  brown  and  yellow 
fancies  that  filled  it  as  the  dying  leaves  of  October 
strewed  the  ground. 

My  pupils  had  all  retired  to  their  rooms,  and  re- 


AGNES  REEF.  103 

lieved  of  my  charge,  my  tliouglits  were  free  to 
recreate.  I  walked  quickly  back  and  forth,  drawing 
in  lon"^  drauii-lits  of  the  invio-oratino;  air,  and  review- 
ing  the  morning's  duties.  While  thus  engaged,  my 
attention  was  arrested  by  the  appearance  of  a  tall 
man  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  standing  still 
and  watching  me.  As  he  caught  my  startled  gaze 
he  lifted  his  hat  and  bowed,  and  before  I  had  time 
to  reflect  on  his  strange  proceedings,  had  crossed  the 
street  and  was  standing  on  the  pxvement  below. 
"  Agnes ! " 

My  God,  he   called   me   by  name !       My  blood 
became  like   ice.      Shaking   from   head   to   foot   I 
covered  my  eyes  with  my  hands,  and  would  have  run 
in,  but  the  whistling  wind  brought  the  cry  again : 
"  Agnes !     Let  me  speak  with  you." 
Quick  as  the  words  were  uttered  the  dark  figure 
mounted  the  stone  steps,  only  the  little  iron  railing 
of  the  balcony  dividing  us. 
I  knew  then  who  it  was. 

"  Will  you  open  the  door,  or  shall  I  ? "  said  a  voice 
which  I  remembered  too  well. 

I  saw  no  alternative,  without  disturbing  the  neigh- 
borhood and  betraying  myself ;  so,  like  a  criminal, 
I  stepped  softly  to  the  hall  and  unlocked  the  door. 
He  came  in  with  a  light,  free  step,  and  seated  him- 
self upon  a  couch  with  the  ease  of  an  old  friend  and 
accomplished  gentleman.     It  was  Eichard  Bristed ! 

I  will  not  detail  what  passed  at  this  interview. 
But  I  fell  again  under  his  fascination  ;  his  magnetic 
presence  lulled  my  faculties,  and,  alas,  I  must  relate 
that  this  noctural  intrusion  was  followed  quickly  by 
others ! 


104  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

He  asv^nmcd  liis  old  ascendancy  over  me.  The 
past  became  like  an  unpleasant  dream  in  my  mind, 
dimly  remembered,  but  never  distinc^tly  recalled. 

Occasionally,  however,  a  sharp  doubt  obtruded 
itself,  and  roused  me  for  an  instant.  One  evening  I 
ventured  to  ask : 

"  Richard,  ^\'hy  are  your  visits  so  brief,  and  made 
only  in  the  night  ? " 

""VVliy?"  he  repeated,  as  if  startled  by  the  sudden- 
ness of  the  questioTi,  then  adding  carelessly :  "  Be- 
cause you  always  Iiuac  that  deuced  old  fellow.  Mon- 
sieur Pilot,  running  here.  I  am  not  very  jealous, 
yet  it  Avould  torment  me  to  meet  one  who  dares  raise 
his  thoughts  to  my  Agnes.  He  wants  to  marry 
vou.     Do  dismiss  him !  " 

This  conjecture  proved  true,  and  I  was  obliged  to 
crive  a  cold  rebuff  to  the  man  who  had  befriended 
me.  It  is  possible  Richard  Bristcd  did  not  care  to  be 
recognized  by  his  brother's  agent,  but  I  did  not  think 
of  tliis  at  that  time. 


CHAPTER  XL 

After  this  affair  happened  Richard  visited  me 
more  openly,  and  my  pupils,  when  by  chance  they 
met  him,  were  charmed  with  tlie  stranger.  He  was 
only  known  as  "  Mr.  Richard."  ''  Call  me  that,  Ag- 
nes, I  hate  the  name  of  Bristed.  Introduce  me  to 
your  friends  as  Mr.  Richard,"  he  said,  and  I  had 
done  so. 

About  this  time  he  explained  satisfactorily,  to  my 
credulous  mind,  the  cause  of  his  sudden  retreat  from 


AONES  REEF.  105 

Bi'isted  nail,  and  gave  me  reason  to  believe  that  the 
statements  his  brother  had  made  concerninjr  him 
were  untrue  and  evil  in  desio-n. 

"  My  brother,  as  you  have  surely  discovered,  Agnes, 
is  a  cold,  proud  man,  and  as  I  was  not  his  equal  in 
wealth  or  position  he  selected  an  heiress,  both  old 
and  disagreeable,  whom  he  designed  me  to  marry. 
Your  youth  and  beauty  he  intended  to  appropriate 
to  himself.  I  feared  if  I  made  him  acquainted  with 
my  purpose  to  unite  myself  to  you  he  would  fi-us- 
trate  all  my  wishes,  and  when  I  discovered  that  he 
knew  of  my  plans,  I  determined  to  forestall  him  by 
making  you  my  wife  that  very  niglit.  I  intended  to 
have  gone  through  the  form  of  marriage,  which  the 
next  day  could  have  been  legalized,  for  I  feared  the 
iniluence  of  his  wealth  and  position  upon  your  un- 
sophisticated mind. 

"  However,  you  refused  to  trust  me,  and  I  left  your 
room  maddened  by  anger  and  the  fear  of  losing  you. 

'*  I  met  my  brother  in  the  hall-way ;  he  said  Her- 
bert was  ill,  and  I  accused  him  of  trying  to  injure 
the  boy  that  he  might  defraud  me.  Sharp  words 
passed  between  us.  I  left  him,  and  in  blind  haste 
mounted  my  horse j  thinking  I  would  ride  over  to 
N.,  a  distance  of  some  twenty  miles,  to  get  the 
clergyman  of  the  parish,  an  intimate  friend  of  mine, 
to  drive  with  me  to  the  Hall  and  perform  the  im- 
portant ceremony. 

"  The  ride  I  accomplished  in  a  few  hours,  but  I 
found  my  friend  absent  from  home.  The  excite- 
ment and  disappointment,  added  to  the  severe  cold  to 
which  I  was  exposed,  broke  me  down,  and  I  was  taken 


106  CILUILOTTE  BRONTE. 

suddenly  ill.  When  I  recovered,  I  returned  to 
IJristcd  Ilall  only  to  find  my  priceless  bird  flown, 
and  no  clue  to  be  had  to  her  whereabouts. 

"  As  to  the  tale  about  Herbert,  that  is  all  a  ruse  ; 
he  is  not  my  son,  and  only  distantly  connected  with 
either  of  us.  Tie  is  heir  to  a  considerable  estate, 
and  Mr.  Bristed  is  managing  so  that  upon  Herbert's 
decease  (and  poor  child,  he  cannot  live  long)  the  in- 
heritance will  fall  to  his  lot." 

Such  was  his  version  of  the  story,  and  as  I  loved 
him  I  believed  it  willinglv. 


CHxVPTER  Xn. 

In  his  gay  society  the  winter  passed  quickly. 
"With  the  opening  spring  he  departed  —  on  business, 
as  he  said.  I  felt  his  loss,  but  as  it  was  a  busy 
time  with  me  it  did  not  affect  me  as  it  otherwise 
would  have  done.  Many  changes  were  being  made 
in  my  seminary.  I  was  obliged  to  employ  work- 
men to  add  new  dormitories  to  the  great  house,  for 
pupils  were  crowding  in  from  every  point. 

Tlie  reputation  of  the  school  was  growing ;  I  was 
immersed  in  business.  Some  months  elajised ;  I 
ceased  to  hear  from  Richard,  almost  to  think  of 
him,  amid  the  activity  of  the  spring  term. 

"  Circumstances,"  some  say,  ''  are  the  Devil,"  and 
I  almost  believe  that  saying.  While  employed  I  was 
happy,  my  mind  well  balanced  and  energetic ;  but 
unfortunately  for  me,  summer  vacation  drew  near. 
It  came  finally ;    a   sultry  sun,  parched  earth,  and 


AGNES  REEF.  107 

scorched  verdure  made  life  in  the  city  undesirable. 
My  ])upils  lied  to  the  country  and  to  their  homes  un- 
til the  fall  session,  and  I  was  left  alone.  Even  my 
servants  were  absent,  all  save  one. 

Shut  up  in  the  empty  mansion  alone  with  my  own 
thoughts,  I  was  growing  morbidly  lonesome. 

It  was  at  this  unpropitious  moment  that  Kichard 
Bristed  returned. 


CHAPTER  xm. 

He  arranged  quiet  strolls  to  the  country  —  little 
excursions  here  and  there  with  himself  as  my  sole 
companion  —  and  many  sweet  happy  days  of  unsullied 
pleasure  I  passed  in  his  society. 

One  sultry  morning,  to  my  delight,  he  came  in  an 
open  carriage,  saying  that  the  atmosphere  was  so 
heated  he  would  drive  me  out  of  town  to  a  charminfr 
little  villaa-e  with  which  he  was  familiar. 

The  prospect  of  such  a  jaunt  was  to  me  indeed 
agreeable ;  and  as  he  liked  to  see  me  in  becoming  dress, 
I  arrayed  myself  in  white,  placed  a  fillet  of  pale  blue 
ribbon  round  my  hair  and  a  bouquet  of  blue  forget- 
me-nots  in  the  bosom  of  my  dress,  and  thus  adorned 
set  forth,  sitting  by  Richard's  side. 

I  was  as  happy  as  a  young  queen ;  all  the  black 
suspicions  which  had  darkened  my  horizon  were  ab- 
sorbed in  the  fierce  heat  of  that  summer  morning. 
His  beauty,  his  fascinating  smile,  his  lively  conversa- 
tion, filled  me  with  rapture. 

Arrived  at  the  village,  we  stopped  at  a  smalllbut 
pretty  tavern  and  alighted.     Wliile  I  entered  the 


108  CUARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

dwelling  Eichard  drove  liis  lioi'ses  under  shelter. 
lie  soon  joined  me,  looking  much  disconcerted. 

"Agnes,  my  darling,  what  shall  we  do?  AVe  cannot 
ride  hack  to-ni<rht ;  the  carriaije  is  out  of  order,  and  I 
fear  the  horse  is  injured  1)y  the  heat  and  ra})id  dri- 
ving. 

"  O  Richard,  I  must  return  home  to-night !"  I  an- 
swered decidedly. 

"  Well,  I  will  see  what  can  be  done,  but  we  will 
rest  awhile  and  take  some  refreshments." 

A  delightful  lialf  hour  passed  while  we  were  rega- 
ling ourselves  with  country  fare  and  looking  at  the 
strange  place  fi'om  the  window  of  the  little  inn. 
Then  Richard  proposed  that  we  should  walk  out 
while  waiting  for  repairs  to  our  vehicle.  Together 
we  strolled  through  the  quiet  lanes  and  open  com- 
mons till  we  came  upon  a  pretty,  unpretending  church, 
half  hidden  in  ivy  and  creeping  vines.  The  door  stood 
open.  "  Come,"  said  he,  "  let  us  go  in."  I  followed 
him  in.  To  my  surprise  I  discovered  a  clergyman  in 
his  robes  at  the  altar.  Richard  whispered  in  my  ear 
some  words  wliich  I  could  not  understand  and  their 
import  I  could  only  guess  at,  but  his  tender  manner 
brought  the  hot  blood  to  my  face. 

"iVgnes,"  he  continued,  speaking  with  quiet  deter- 
mination ;  "  you  must  be  mine ;  everything  is  in  readi- 
ness.    We  cannot  return  to-night;  Fate  ordains  it!  " 

It  did  appear  to  me  that  Fate,  as  he  said,  ordained 
the  events  which  followed  that  country  drive.  All 
the  love  and  sentiment  of  my  nature  was  aroused ;  but 
reason  told  my  intoxicated  senses  that  I  must  not  act 
without  forethought,  so  I  shook  my  head  to  his  pas- 


AGNES  REEF.  109 

sionate  urgency  and  endeavored  to  withdraw.  But 
my  companion  pressed  me  gently  back  into  an  open 
pew,  and  hastened  past  me  up  the  aisle. 

A  rapid  conversation  then  took  place  between  him- 
self and  the  clergyman,  who,  after  casting  his  eyes  in 
my  direction,  went  to  his  desk  and  took  up  liis  prayer- 
book. 

Richard  returned  with  quick  steps  to  where  I  was 
sitting. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  smiling ;  "  he  is  waiting." 

Startled  and  trembling,  I  made  no  answer  save  an 
effort  to  reach  the  door. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  Agnes,  do  not  make  a  scene  ! 
Recover  your  usual  good  sense.  Do  you  not  see  that 
it  is  best  ? "  whispered  Richard,  with  earnestness  al- 
most fierce. 

And  so  hurried,  flushed  and  doubting,  overcome 
with  heat  and  excitement,  I  permitted  myself  to  be 
led  to  the  altar. 

The  ceremony  soon  ended.  As  the  clerk  shut  his 
book  and  we  turned  to  depart,  I  could  not  realize 
that  this  abrupt,  informal  marriage  was  a  reality.  As 
I  passed  down  the  aisle,  a  white,  fluttering,  impal- 
paljle,  and  yet  clearly-defined  form  arose  from  one 
of  the  empty  seats,  and  unobstructed  by  carved  wood 
or  heavy  upholstery,  passed  out  through  frame  and 
plaster !  The  slight  figure,  the  golden  hair,  T  remem- 
bered too  well — it  was  that  of  the  gJiost  of  Bris- 
ted  Hall ! 

I  clenched  Richard's  arm  so  that  he  muttered  an 
oath,  and  said  sharply,  "  My  God,  Agnes,  what  are  you 
doing?" 

10 


110  CUARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

"  Did  you  not  see  that  figure  ?  It  passed  straight 
through  the  wall,"  I  whispered  \n  affright. 

''  ^love  ou  —  none  of  your  d  —  d  nonsense,  Agnes," 
said  liichard,  scowling  ;  then  hastly  adding,  "•  Exciise 
me,  love,  you  confuse  me.  My  happiness  makes  me 
forget  myself." 

My  mind  surged  with  conflicting  emotions.  I  felt  a 
secret  joy  in  the  knowledge  that  I  was  united  to  the 
man  I  loved.  This  romantic,  half  run-away  match 
pleased  the  romance  of  my  nature,  and  yet  I  was 
unable  to  resist  the  feeling  that  I  had  done  wrong. 
A  strange  foreboding  of  evil  intruded  upon  my  joy. 

Richard  that  evening  was  gay  almost  to  wildness. 
"  O  Agnes !  Agnes !  we  have  outwitted  them,  the 
fools !  They  thought  they  had  conquered  me,  but 
you  are  mine,  and  I  have  won  ! " 

lie  talked  so  disconnectedly,  I  thought  he  had 
taken  too  much  wine.    Indeed,  to  this  he  owned. 

"  I  could  drink  flask  after  flask  of  it,  I  am  so 
happy ! "  he  exclaimed. 

We  were  hajopy  that  night  and  drove  home  in  the 
cool  of  the  morning. 

It  was  arranii-ed  that  our  marriafjc  should  for  the 
present  be  kept  private,  as  Richard  thought  if  it  were 
tnown  it  might  disorganize  my  school. 


AGNES  REEF.  Ill 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


We  had  been  wedded  but  two  weeks  when  one 
morning  Richard  asked  me  to  show  him  mj  deed 
of  the  property. 

"  How  strange, "  said  he,  as  he  looked  it  over. 
"  Do  you  know,  Agnes,  before  I  wedded  you  I  might 
haN'e  married  many  a  woman  of  wealth,  but  I  would 
not  unite  myself  with  a  lady  who  would  not  honor 
me  by  giving  me  sole  control  of  all  her  possessions. 

"  Well,  Richard,  "  answered  I,  laughing,  "  you  can 
control  mine  if  you  like.  It  matters  little  to  me  who 
holds  the  deed,  so  long  as  my  dominion  over  the 
young  ladies  is  not  invaded." 

"  That  is  what  I  expected  of  your  loving  nature, 
Agnes,  and  yet  I  suppose  you  would  hesitate  to  con- 
vey your  property  to  me." 

"  No ;  why  should  I  ? "  I   exclaimed.     "  I  will  go 

wdth  yon  to  an  attorney  this  moment,  if  you  desire 

it." 

"  Well,  come,  we  shai  see  ;  get  your  bonnet,"  said 

he  irailv. 

I  tied  on  my  bonnet,  and  accompanied  him  down 
the  street  into  a  little  dingy  office  in  a  narrow  thor- 
ou2:hfare. 

At  the  door,  laying  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder, 
he  said  jokingly : 

"  Agnes,  go  back,  I  was  only  trying  you ;  I  wanted 
to  see  if  you  meant  what  you  said." 

"  Of  course  I  meant  it,  and  I  mil  not  go  back  till 
it  is  done." 

"Well,  well,   you   must  have  your  own   way,  I 


112  CILiRLOTTE  BRONTE. 

see!"  and  with  a  gay,  exulting  smile  lie  led  me  into 
the  office. 

I  signed  the  paper  giving  to  him  the  house  and 
lands,  and  was  glad  when  it  was  done,  for  I  felt  that 
it  miglit  atone  for  any  suspicion  or  doubt  of  his  good- 
ness which  had  crossed  my  mind,  for  he  had  made 
me  very  happy  since  our  inarriage. 

I  returned  to  my  school  and  its  duties.  In  the  in- 
terval between  the  recitations,  I  liad  time  to  reflect. 
I  had  acted  impulsively,  and  perhaps  unfairly.  What 
right  had  I  to  give  away  a  property  given  to  me  for 
an  especial  purpose? 

Had  I  done  right  ?  That  was  the  question  which 
annoyed  me  —  tlie  question  which  constantly  thrust 
itself  l^efore  me  during  the  live-long  day.  My  sleep 
that  niirht  was  disturbed.  The  form  of  the  elder  Mr. 
Uristed  appeared  in  my  dreams.  lie  seemed  to  re- 
proach me  by  his  looks,  and  when  I  endeavored  to 
speak  to  him,  vanished  from  my  sight. 

Ilichard  had  left  me  after  my  signing  the  paper. 
He  told  me  lie  was  obliged  to  leave  town  on  busi- 
ness, and  I  had  no  one  to  council  with.  My  own 
thoughts  startled  me  ;  I  became  nervous,  and  finally 
quite  ill. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

At  length,  after  two  days  of  unrest  and  self-con- 
demnation, I  quieted  myself  with  the  assurance  that 
I  would  go  to  the  Hall  and  see  Mr.  Bristed ;  then 
also  I  could  see  dear  Herbert,  to  whom  my  heart 
went  often  out  with  longing.     His  name  was  never 


A02TES  REEF.  113 

mentioned  between  Richard  and  myself.  I  avoided 
the  snbject;  a  dread  which  I  could  not  overcome  for- 
bade me  to  speak  of  it.  But  now  a  strange,  irrepres- 
sible desire  to  see  the  child  tilled  my  mind. 

Yielding  to  this  intense  feeling,  I  arranged  my  af- 
fairs, and  taking  a  coach,  set  off  early  in  the  morning 
for  the  train  which  would  convey  me  to  Bristed  Hall. 
To  my  astonishment  I  met  Richard  at  the  depot. 
Overwhelmed  with  surprise  at  the  encounter,  and 
ashamed  to  confess  my  intended  journey,  I  made 
some  petty  excuse  for  being  there,  and  returned  home 
again.  Richard  handed  me  into  the  cab,  but  ex- 
cused himself  from  accompanying  me  as  he  had  a 
friend  awaiting  him. 

That  day,  after  luncheon,  taking  me  aside  he  in- 
formed me  that  a  noble  lord  had  placed  in  his  charge 
a  lad  who  was  partially  idiotic  and  sole  heir  to  an  im- 
mense estate ;  that  it  was  neccessary  he  should  have 
at  his  disposal  a  room  in  the  upper  part  of  the  build- 
ing in  which  he  could  keep  him  from  observation,  as 
it  had  been  discovered  the  sight  of  strangers  increased 
the  boy's  malady,  and  perfect  seclusion  would  be  the 
only  means  of  restoring  him  to  reason. 

I  immediately  directed  a  servant  to  put  in  order 
one  of  the  rooms  in  a  remote  portion  of  the  dwelling ; 
this  was  done,  and  towards  dusk  Richard,  ^vho  had 
left  the  house,  returned  in  a  handsome  coach  with  the 
poor,  helpless,  deranged  boy.  From  the  window  I 
saw  them  alight.  A  slight,  tall  figure,  wrapped  in  a 
cloak,  descended  from  the  coach.  This  undoubtedly 
was  the  afflicted  youth.  He  walked  so  feebly  1 
should  have  hastened  to  his  assistance,  but  Ricli- 
10* 


Ill  CUARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

ard's  command  that  I  should  not  permit  him  to  see 
struni^e  faces  withheUl  me. 

However,  I  stood  in  the  partly  oj^tcned  door, 
hopin<>j  I  should  l)e  called.  As  the  muliled  lii^ure 
passed  me  on  the  way  u[)  the  staircase  I  vainly  sought 
to  catch  a  jj^limpse  of  the  youth's  face,  but  he  turned 
neither  to  the  i-iMit  nor  left. 

Richard,  however,  saw  me  and  shook  his  head, 
indicating  with  an  angry,  peremptory  gesture,  that  I 
should  withdraw. 

For  days  1  felt  a  strange  curiosity  about  this  youth, 
but  as  Richard  gave  my  inquisitiveness  no  food,  and 
conducted  his  attentions  to  his  charge  in  an  orderly, 
business-like  manner,  I  dismissed  the  subject  from  my 
mind. 


CHAPTER  X\T:. 

Nothing  new  transpired  the  remainder  of  those 
autumn  days.  November  was  now  close  upon  us. 
About  this  time  I  remarked  a  sndden  fallinij'  off  of 
my  hitherto  prosperous  school.  Determined  to  know 
the  cause,  I  inquired  of  one  of  my  assistants,  in  whom 
I  confided,  if  she  was  aware  of  the  cause  of  this 
decline.  She  hesitated  to  reply  to  my  question,  but 
when  pressed  for  lier  opinion  she  informed  me  that 
my  pupils  Avere  dissatisfied  with  my  relations  with 
Mr.  Richard,  and  also  witli  his  conduct  respecting 
the  youth  who  had  been  imprisoned  on  the  npper 
floor.  They  asserted  they  had  heard  groans  proceed- 
ing from  the  room  he  occupied,  and  feared  to  remain 
in  a  house  where  mystery  and  secrecy  were  rife. 


AGNES  REEF.  115 

I  was  astonished  and  alarmed  at  this  information. 
Yon,  reader,  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that  I  was  at 
that  time  more  ignorant  of  events  that  transpired 
around  me  than  my  own  pupils.  But  I  was  not  of  a 
suspicious  nature,  and  happy  in  my  new  life  of  love, 
the  few  weeks  that  liad  elapsed  since  my  marriage 
passed  as  in  a  delicious  dream. 

But  now  I  was  thoroughly  aroused  and  ready  to 
return  to  duty.  1  thanked  the  teacher  for  her  infor- 
mation and  then  dismissed  her,  as  I  wished  to  be 
alone. 

When  left  to  the  cpiiet  of  my  own  thoughts  I 
reflected  how  best  to  proceed  in  the  matter.  Richard 
was  not  at  home,  I  could  not  question  him,  and  he 
had  the  key  of  his  ward's  room  with  him. 

I  finally  concluded  I  would  go  to  the  door  of  this 
private  room  and  listen  if  I  could  detect  any  unusual 
noise  from  within. 

With  trepidation  I  ascended  the  back  staircase 
leading  to  the  secluded  apartment. 

Near  the  door  I  paused  against  the  alcove  of  the 
great  window  that  lighted  the  hall,  and  looked 
out.  The  sky  was  dull  and  leaden ;  a  scanty  snow 
was  falling,  and  the  wund,  blowing  furiously,  drove 
it  hither  and  yon.  I  stood  for  some  moments 
looking  out  upon  the  gloomy  prospect  so  in  accord- 
ance with  my  state  of  mind.  Suddenly  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  Richard  crossing  the  street.  I  started 
when  I  saw  him  and  was  about  to  retreat,  when  a 
thought  arrested  me.  Why  should  I  hurry  away? 
Was  I  afraid  of  Richard  ?  Was  he  not  the  proper 
person  to  consult  in  my  dilemma  ?  I  would  let  him 
know  that  I  desired  to  enter  the  room ! 


11 'J  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

So  tlihikini!;,  I  approached  the  door  and  tried  it. 
It  Avas  h)(;kcd,  but  at  the  sound  of  the  turning  knob 
a  sad,  dreary  moan  arose  from  within  —  a  cry  of 
mingled  fear  and  weakness.  The  sound  of  that 
moaning  voice  seemed  familiar  to  my  car.  What 
could  it  mean? 

As  I  stood  thus  in  suspense,  listening  for  further 
development  of  the  mystery,  I  heard  a  step  close 
beside  me.  I  turned,  and  discovered  Kichard.  His 
fair,  handsome  face  scowled  at  me  fiendishly;  his 
countenance  seemed  transformed;  his  eyes  gleamed 
like  those  of  a  panther. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  said  he,  laying  a 
heavy  hand  upon  me  and  speaking  through  his  set 
teeth.  "  Go  down  stairs  ! "  and  he  pushed  me  from 
him  violently. 

I  suppose  his  physical  power  and  angry  mood 
awed  me,  for  I  forgot  my  determination  to  solve  the 
mystery — forgot  my  own  rights,  and  hurried  precip- 
itately down  the  stairs. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

WiTn  my  mind  filled  with  dreadful  forebodings, 
I  reached  my  own  private  chamber,  entered  it,  and 
bolted  the  door,  that  I  might  consider,  undisturbed, 
the  best  course  of  action  to  pursue  under  these  fear- 
ful suspicions  that  haunted  me.  Hour  after  hour 
passed  as  I  sat  thus  absorbed  in  thought  which  seemed 
to  turn  my  very  hair  gray  from  its  intensity. 

I  heard  Richard  descend  the  stairs  and  go  out  into 


AGNES  REEF.  117 

the  street.  Not  loiis;  after  this  the  door-bell  rans: 
violently  and  the  servant  knocked  at  my  door  to  say 
that  a  ijentleraan  in  the  drawino;-room  wished  to  see 
me.  Smoothing  my  hair  and  arranging  my  toilet,  I 
obeyed  the  snmraons,  but  started  back  on  discovering 
the  stranger  to  be  no  other  tlian  Mr.  Bristed.  He 
pressed  my  hands  and  said : 

"Agnes,  can  I  converse  with  yon  in  private  here  a 
few  moments '( " 

My  lirst  snrprise  over,  I  answered, "  Come  with  me ; 
we  will  not  be  -distnrbed  here.  "  Witlidrawing  to  a 
small  room  adjoining,  he  drew  forward  an  ottoman 
and  seating  himself  beside  me,  said  : 

"Agnes,  Herbert  is  missing;  can  yon  tell  me 
where  I  can  iind  him  ? " 

"  Herbert  missing !  "  said  I  with  a  shudder. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  I  liave  heard,  Agnes,  that  a 
gentleman  \-isits  yon  whom  I  surmise  to  be  my 
brother,  and,  if  so,  1  thought  perliaps  you  would 
know  through  him  of  Herbert's  place  of  hiding." 

"  Has  Herbert  left  you  ? "  said  I.  "  Tell  me  — what 
do  you  mean,  Mr.  Bristed  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  he ;  "  some  few  weeks  since,  I  left  the 
Hall  to  visit  an  old  friend.  I  expected  to  be  absent 
a  fortnight.  Wliile  I  was  gone  Herbert  disappeared, 
tlie  servants  knew  not  how  nor  where.  At  iirst, 
lioping  to  discover  that  he  had.  strayed  ofP  of  his  own 
accord  and  would  soon  be  found,  they  searched  the 
country  in  every  direction,  but  in  vain.  They  w^ere  at 
last  obliged  to  send  me  word  of  his  disappearance. 
You  can  imagine  my  sensations  on  arriving  at  the  Hall 
and  hndiuir  the  dear  child's  room  vacant.     I  made 


D 


lis  CHARLOTTE  BltOXTE. 

inquiries  in  every  quarter,  sent  couriei's  out  in  all 
parts  of  the  neighboring  country,  but  no  trace  of  him 
could  be  fouiiil. 

"I  at  length  thought  of  yon,  that  you  might  have 
seen  or  heard  of  my  brother.  TTc  is  the  one  person 
likely  to  be  concerned  in  the  singular  disappearance 
of  Herbert." 

I  treni])led  from  head  to  foot.  A\niat  could  I  say? 
Evidently  he  was  not  aware  of  mv  marriac-e  Avith  his 
brother.  IIow  should  I  act  ?  Richard  might  come 
in  at  any  moment  and  disco^'er  himself.  I  recollect- 
ed him  to  have  incidentally  mentioned  that  the  follow- 
ing day  he  h;i(l  an  engagement  at  the  race-course 
with  a  friend ;  I  therefore  said  hurriedly : 

"  Mr.  Bristcd,  I  have  seen  Richard  recently,  hut  to- 
night can  tell  you  nothing  f m*ther.  If  yow  will  call 
to-morroAV  morning  at  eleven,  I  Avill  tell  you  all  I 
know." 

He  seized  my  hand,  exclaiming,  '•  Tell  me  to-night, 
Agnes,  and  set  my  mind  at  ease," 

My  head  seemed  on  fire  —  I  groaned  audibly. 

"  I  can  tell  you  nothing  of  a  certainty.  It  is  all 
surmise,  and  my  brain  is  distracted  to-night.  Give 
me  till  to-morrow." 

"  I  will,  Agnes  ;  I  feel  that  I  can  confide  in  you." 

"  Xow  go,"  I  replied.  "  My  position  is  such  that 
your  presence  here  will  only  destroy  the  purpose  of 
your  visit," 

He  clasped  my  hand  in  his  and  left  me. 

The  next  morniui::  before  leavino-  for  the  racc- 
course,  while  adjusting  his  neck-tie,  Richard  said  : 

"  I  fear  we  shall  lose  our  imbecile  pupil  up-stairs, 


AGNES  REEF.  119 

Ag,  I  brought  a  doctor  in  to  see  him  last  night,  and 
he  says  he  cannot  live  long." 

I  could  not  see  his  face,  for  he  looked  persistently 
away. 

"  If  he  is  ill,  I  must  see  him,  Richard,"  I  managed 
to  reply. 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  said  he ;  "  I  thought  you  were  foolishly 
scared  to  hear  him  groan  yesterday,  but  if  he  does 
not  get  better  I  will  send  him  home  to  his  friends." 
This  he  said  carelessly,  as  he  walked  out  of  the  room 
humming  a  lively  air. 

How  coolly  he  talks  about  the  lad !  thought  I, 
half  asliamed  of  my  suspicions.  Perhaps  I  have 
wronged  him.  I  have  been  too  impetuous  in  my 
surmises. 


CHAPTER  XVm. 

The  time  drew  near  for  his  brother's  arrival.  He 
was  prompt  to  the  hour. 

"  Well,  Agnes,"  said  he,  "  I  have  passed  a  sleepless 
night.  I  hope  you  will  relieve  my  mind  of  its 
anxiety." 

"  Mr.  Bristed,"  said  I,  covering  my  eyes  with  my 
hand,  for  I  could  not  endure  his  eager  gaze,  "  I  must 
first  tell  you  I  am  married  to  your  brother  Richard." 

"Married  to  Richard  !"  he  exclaimed,  starting  up 
violently  agitated  ;  and  seizing  my  shoulder  with  ner- 
vous gripe  he  set  me  off  from  him  at  arm's  length  — 
"  You  married  to  Richard !  why,  Agnes,  that  cannot  be ; 
has  he  not  a  wife  now  living  in  France  ?  But  be  calm, 
child,"  said  he,  "  be  calm,"  patting  me  gently  on  the 


120  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

head ;  "  perhaps  I  am  misinformed ;  we  will  talk  of  this 
hereafter.  Now  about  Herbert.  Tell  me  what  you 
know," 

This  question  recalled  me.  I  then  informed  him 
of  the  idiotic  pupil  who  had  l)een  received  in  the 
house  about  a  fortni<^ht  sin(;e,  and  how  my  suspicions 
as  to  his  identity  had  been  aroused  the  day  previous. 

He  could  scarcely  wait  till  I  had  finished  my  ac- 
count. "  Come,  quick  !  come !  show  me  the  way  to 
the  room ! " 

I  led  him  up  tlie  staii-s  in  the  direction  of  the  sus- 
pected chamber.  As  we  neared  the  door  a  low 
moan  could  be  heard,  distinctly. 

"  O  my  God,  it  is  Herbert ! ''  he  exclaimed. 
"  Quick,  where  is  the  key  ? " 

"  I  have  no  key  —  you  must  pry  the  lock  open." 
No  sooner  said  than  done  —  he  burst  open  the  door 
and  entered.  I  followed.  Alas  !  our  surmises  proved 
too  true  !  There  upon  the  couch  lay  the  wasted  form 
of  poor  Herbert. 

As  he  recognized  us  his  wan  face  lighted  up  Avith 
an  angelic  smile,  and  he  endeavored  to  raise  himself 
at  our  coming,  but  he  was  too  weak,  and  his  head 
sank  nerveless  back  upon  the  pillow. 

Silently  and  hushed,  as  in  the  chaml)cr  of  death," 
we  stepped  to  his  bedside.  He  held  out  his  thin 
liand  to  his  uncle,  who  clasped  it  between  his  own, 
and,  kneeling  by  his  couch,  bowed  his  head  and 
sobbed  aloud.  His  first  moments  of  bitter  grief 
subsiding,  he  said  to  me,  "  Send  for  some  wine." 
Then,  stroking  the  chiUrs  fair  forehead,  he  groaned, 
"  ()  Herbert,  Herbert,  have  I  found  you  at  last,  sick 
and  alone ! " 


AGNES  BEEF.  121 

Herbert  attempted  to  reply,  but  his  voice  was 
weak  and  faint ;  we  could  not  distinguish  his  words. 
A  servant  brought  the  wine,  and  I  moistened  his 
colorless  lips  with  it.  How  I  felt,  it  is  useless  to 
describe.     Words  would  fail  to  express  my  terror. 

The  rich,  warm  juice  of  the  grape  and  the  applica- 
tion of  stimulants  seemed  to  restore  liim  to  life.  His 
first  effort  on  recovering  was  to  call  me  by  name.  I 
answered  by  bending  over  him  and  bathing  his  pale 
forehead.     At  this  he  smiled,  pleased  and  happy. 

"  K'ow,  Herbert,  my  poor  boy,"  said  Mr.  Bristed, 
"  if  it  will  not  fatigue  you  too  much  to  talk,  tell  us 
how  you  came  here.  Who  brought  you  ?  Why  did 
you  leave  Bristed  Hall  ? " 

"  Uncle  Eichard  brought  me,"  said  he,  heaving  a 
melancholy  sigh.  "He  came  after  you  had  gone, 
uncle,  and  told  me  that  Agnes  Beef  was  sick  and 
going  to  die,  and  wanted  to  see  me  and  you,  and  that 
if  you  were  home  you  would  let  me  go,  because  you 
loved  her ;  and  I  thought  so  too.  He  gave  me  this 
ring  which  Agnes  sent  so  I  would  know  it  was  her." 
And,  sa^ang  this,  he  held  up  a  thin,  transparent 
hand,  and  there,  indeed,  upon  it  gleamed  one  of  my 
rings,  so  loose  that  the  wasted  fingers  could  scarce 
retain  it. 

"My  ring!  So  Eichard  gave  you  that,"  said  I, 
with  scorn  I  could  not  conceal,  even  in  the  sick 
chamber. 

"  Yes,"  he  murmured,  "  and  he  told  me  he  would 

bring  me  straight  back  before  uncle  got  home,  and 

he  brought  me  here  into  this  room,  but  Agnes  was 

not  here.     I  could  not  find  her.     Then  he  locked  the 
11 


122  CnARLOTTE  BRONTE. 

door  and  M'ould  not  let  me  out,  and  I  liave   been 
Iiunirry  and  cold.     And  when  I  c-ricd,  lie  would  kick- 
me,  and  that  made  me  sick,  I  think.     Do  take  me 
home,  uncle,  before  he  comes,  and  I  -will   never  go 
away  again  I " 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

During  this  recital  Mr.  Bristed  and  I  exchanged 
glances  of  horror.  "VVe  could  not  speak.  When  it 
was  finished,  he  said  : 

"Agnes,  order  the  coach.  I  must  take  him  away 
from  this  place.'^ 

I  felt  that  the  boy  was  too  feeble  to  move,  but  I 
dared  not  sitg-gest  it.  I  too  wanted  him  removed 
from  the  baneful  influences  of  the  house.  We  pro- 
posed to  carry  him  down  on  the  pallet,  and  thus 
convey  him  to  the  carriage.  One  hour  or  more 
elapsed  before  evei'ything  was  in  readiness.  While 
we  were  moving  him  Ilichard  appeared,  unan- 
nounced. A  wild,  unearthly  scream  from  Herbert 
first  gave  notice  of  his  arrival. 

"  O  uncle !  Miss  Reef !  save  me !  He  will  beat  me 
to  death ! " 

His  uncle  endeavored  to  calm  him  with  his 
assurance  of  protection,  and,  turning  to  Ilichard, 
in  a  voice  husky  with  emotion  said : 

"  Look,  this  is  your  work !  If  there  is  a  God 
ruling  the  universe,  your  punishment,  though  tardy, 
must  be  sure." 

"I  see  nothing  strange  about  it,"  said  Ilichard, 
with   au    assumption   of    indifference    which  made 


AGNES  REEF.  '  123 

liis  handsome  face  look  to  me  at  that  moment 
like  that  of  a  Judas.  "  If  he  is  my  child,  as  you  say, 
why  should  he  not  be  here  ?  Who  has  a  better  right 
to  him  than  I  ?  The  little  imp  professes  to  dislike 
me,  but  that  is  some  of  your  teaching,  and  I  will  soon 
cure  him  of  it." 

"You  cannot  have  him,  Richard.  lie  must  go 
with  me." 

"  I  know  my  rights,  and  I  will  use  them,"  he 
replied,  excitedly.  "  Move  that  boy  at  your  peril ; " 
and  he  clapped  his  hand  upon  his  silver-mounted 
pocket-pistol.  He  had  evidently  been  drinking.  His 
day  at  the  race-course  had  maddened  him.  He  was 
in  a  dangerous  mood  to  oppose.  This  Mr.  Bristed 
evidently  saw,  as  I  did,  for  he  beckoned  me  to  go 
out  for  assistance.  As  I  was  moving  toward  the 
door  for  that  purpose,  Richard's  eye  lit  upon  me. 

"  Ah,  ha ! "  shouted  he,  coming  toward  me.  "  So 
you  are  the  one  who  has  been  prying  into  my  affairs. 
It  is  you  I  must  thank  for  this  interference.  Out  of 
this  room  directly !     Get  you  gone  ! " 

I  should  have  obeyed,  but  a  sound  fi-om  Herbert's 
bed  arrested  me  —  a  sound  that  awed  me  more  than 
the  angry  voice  of  Richard !  I  hurried  to  the  bed- 
side. Mr.  Bristed  was  there  before  me.  I  looked  at 
the  sinking  boy.  A  stronger  hand  than  his  father's 
grasped  him  now.     That  hand  was  DeatKs  ! 

No  need  now  to  remove  the  little  sufferer  from  his 
couch  to  the  carriage  in  waiting.  He  would  be 
borne  soon  by  the  white-robed  angels  from  the  reach 
of  us  all ! 

Even  Richard,  whose  cruel  grasp  he  had  eluded, 


124  CUARLOTTE  BROXTE. 

seemed  awed  as  the  little  spirit  burst  from  its  tene- 
ment, and  a  transcendent  smile  settled  on  the  tliin, 
waxen  face,  and  the  white  hands  folded  themselves 
across  the  breast  with  an  air  of  nniitterable  peace. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Early  the  next  morning  Mr.  Bristed  accompanied 
the  lifeless  body  of  little  Herbert  to  Bristed  Hall. 
He  begged  me  to  go  with  him,  l)ut  I  refused  his  soli- 
citations. I  had  other  duties  before  me,  which  I  must 
perform,  I  sliould  have  been  glad  to  liave  rid  my- 
self from  every  one,  but  that  could  not  be.  Tiieliard 
did  not  return,  and  I  was  alone ;  the  days  dragged 
llea^•ily  away.  I  felt  that  I  stood  on  the  brink  of  a 
yawning  chasm  from  which  I  could  turn  neither 
to  the  right  nor  the  left.  The  thought  of  remaining 
with  Bichard  was  abhorrent,  and  the  prospect  of 
leaving  him  and  commencing  life  anew  was  also  a 
dreadful  alternative. 

What  shall  I  do1  — I  reflected,  as  I  went  my  weary 
way  through  the  classes.  Bichard  solved  that  ques- 
tion for  me  when  he  returned  after  an  absence  of 
three  davs. 

My  pupils  had  just  retired  when  a  message  came 
that  he  had  returned  and  desired  to  see  me  in  the 
library.  With  a  heavy  heart  I  went  to  meet  him. 
He  was  not  alone.  A  tall,  passionate-looking  wo- 
man, with  dark  hair  and  restless  eyes,  sat  beside  him. 
She  was  richly  appareled,  and  gazed  at  me  with  a 
haughty  stare  as  I  entered. 


AGNES  REEF.  125 

Richard  nodded  to  me  a  bare  recognition  and  said, 
"  [  liave  pent  for  yon,  as  I  wish  von  to  inform  your 
pnpils  that  they  must  leave  in  the  morning.  I  have 
other  uses  for  this  building." 

At  this  cool  announcement  I  staggered.  Good 
God!  would  he  undo  me?  What  plan  had  he  now  in 
xiQVf  ?     '•  Remove  my  pupils !  "  I  exclaimed. 

"Yes;  do  I  not  speak  clearly?  And  as  you  have 
been  plotting  and  scheming  for  some  time  against 
me,  I  would  advise  you  to  leave,  also.  Bristed  Ilall," 
said  he  sneeringly,  "  is  likely  to  prove  an  agreeable 
shelter  to  you," 

"/  leave ! "  said  I,  now  fairly  awake  to  the  danger, 
"AVliat  do  you  mean,  sir?" 

"  I  mean,"  he  replied  with  diabolical  blandness, 
"  that  this  lady  is  my  wife,  and  will  from  this  time 
take  charo-e  of  this  establishment." 

"Richard  Bristed,  you  cannot,  dare  not  make 
that  assertion !  I  am  your  wife,  though  I  acknowl- 
edge it  with  shame  and  sorrow.  lie  has  misled 
you,  madam,"  said  I,  turning  to  the  lady.  "You 
arg  mistaken  if  you  suppose  I  shall  abandon  my 
rights." 

"  Ila,  ha ! "  he  laughed,  "  she  knows  all  about  you. 
You  cannot  enlighten  her,  so  you  had  better  hasten 
and  pack  your  trunks." 

"I  shall  not  leave,  sir;  I  shall  defend  my  position 
here.  I  am  a  woman,  and  you  sliall  not  sully  my  fair 
name,"  said  I,  maddened  by  his  manner.  "Your 
brother  ^\'ill  help  me  —  the  law  will  aid  me.  Here  I 
remain ! " 

"  You  will  ? "  said  he ;  "  we  will  see.  This  house  is 
11* 


12G  CnARLOTTE  BLONTE. 

mine,"  and  lie  drew  out  Lis  pistol  with  wliicli  to 
friirliten  me. 

''  Ilichard,"  said  1,  hoping  to  restore  him  to  calm- 
ness, "  put  up  that  pistol.  You  cannot,  dare  not  use  it." 

"  Dare  not !  "  he  exclaimed,  coming  up  to  me,  his 
hot  hreath  smelling  of  wine  ;  "  I  will  show  you  if  I 
dare  not ! " 

I  was  alarmed  as  he  suddenly  cocked  the  weapon. 
What  might  he  not  do  in  his  drunken  excitement  ? 

"  She  is  a  coward,  Dick,"  said  the  lady.  "  Don't 
trouble  yourself  about  her,"  and  then  turnino:  to  me 
and  stamping  her  foot,  "  How  dare  you  say  you  are 
his  wife  ! "  she  exclaimed.     "  Go  out  from  here ! " 

I  shook  from  head  to  foot,  but  did  not  leave.     " 

"  Come,  Dick,  give  me  the  pistol,"  said  the  lady ; 
"Tou  don't  know  what  you  might  do  with  it." 

"  Don't  meddle  with  me,"  said  he,  as  she  attempted 
to  wrest  it  from  his  grasp.  "  Why  does  that  girl 
stand  glowering  at  me?" 

"()  Eichard,"  I  sobbed,  "my  heart  is  ready  to 
burst !     Don't  act  so  ;  remember  Herbert !  " 

"Ivemember  Herbert ! "  he  muttered ;  "  I  do  remem- 
ber him.  You  killed  him  Avith  your  pranks,  and  now 
you  would  accuse  me.  Go,  leave  my  house,  or  I  will 
compel  you." 

I  believe  he  would  have  Hred  upon  me  at  that  mo- 
mieiit,  but  the  lady  sprang  forward  and  caught  his 
arm.  A  slight  struggle  ensued,  then  followed  a 
sharp  report,  and  the  pistol  fell  to  the  ground ;  a  fear- 
ful shriek  rent  the  air,  and  Kichard  fell  heavily  to 
the  floor,  covered  with  blood.  I  ruslied  to  help  him. 
He  raised  his  glassy  e^'cs  to  mine,  and  faintly  mur- 
muring "  My  God  !    I  am  lo^t !  "  expired. 


AGNES  REEF.  127 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


The  shock  was  too  much  for  me.  I  was  seized 
with  fearful  dizziness.  The  ol)jects  iu  the  room 
became  hUick  before  my  eyes,  and  I  fell  to  the  floor 
beside  the  bleeding  corpse,  insensible. 

Convulsions,  I  was  afterwards  told,  followed  this 
swoon.  A  raging  fever  attacked  me,  and  for  weeks 
my  life  was  despaired  of.  At  length  the  crisis 
passed ;  my  youthful  constitution  conquered  the  dis- 
ease, and  I  was  again  restored  to  the  world  in  which 
I  had  experienced  so  much  joy  and  so  much  misery. 

One  morning  the  delicious  feeling  of  returning 
consciousness  revived  me.  Where  was  I  ?  The  room 
looked  familiar,  yet  strange.  Surely  I  had  seen  that 
silken  coverlet  before !  The  carved  footboard  of  the 
bed  on  which  I  was  lying  was  not  new  to  my  sight. 
My  weak  brain  was  busy  with  conjectures,  when  a 
woman  approached,  carrying  a  glass  and  spoon.  It 
was  Mary,  the  housekeeper  of  Bristed  Hall. 

"  Why,  IMary,  are  you  here  ? "  I  asked  in  sm*prise. 

"Yes,  Miss,  but  you  must  not  talk.  Take  these 
drops.     I  am  heartily  glad  you  iire  better.  Miss." 

A  sense  of  rest  and  peace  stole  over  me,  followed 
by  a  f  e^v  hours  of  natural  sleep. 

On  opening  my  eyes  from  this  refreshing  slumber, 
I  found  Mary  still  sitting  near  me. 

"  Mary,"  said  I,  "  you  must  tell  me  where  I  am ; 
everything  here  looks  so  natural,  and  yet  as  if  I  were 
in  a  dream." 

"  You  are  not  dreaming,  Miss.  You  are  in  your 
own  chamber  in  Bristed  Hall." 


128  ailABLOTTE  BUOXTE. 

Bristed  TTall !  A  Avarni  giisli  of  gratitude  pen-adod 
my  l)ciiig.     So  I  was  not  friendless !  I  Avas  cared  for. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Bristed^ "  I  asked  after  a  pause. 

"  AVe  have  ])ersuaded  him  to  drive  out,  miss,  as  the 
doctor  said  you  were  out  of  danger.  Anxiety  for  you 
and  grief  for  Herbert's  death  have  quite  taken  his 
strengtli  away." 

"I  must  get  up,  Mary.  You  must  help  me  to 
dress." 

"Oh  no,  miss!"  she  replied ;  "you  are  not  strong 
enough  yet." 

"I  am  (iuite  strong.  Besides,  it  will  revive  me; 
I  am  weary  of  the  bed,  and  need  a  change." 

She  acquiesced  in  my  wish,  dressed  me  neatly,  and 
smoothed  my  hair. 

"Now,  take  me  down,"  1  requested.  "I  wish  to 
surprise  Mr.  Bristed." 

Of  course  she  remonstrated,  said  I  would  bring  on 
the  fever  again,  and  all  that ;  but  as  I  persisted  in 
my  determination,  she  led  me  down  the  stairs.  The 
fresh  air  invigorated  me;  I  felt  every  minute  in- 
creased power.  j\t  my  i-equest,  she  took  me  to  Mr. 
Bristed's  conservatory.  The  bright  flowers,  the  sing- 
ing birds  in  their  ornamented  cages,  and  the  adjoin- 
ing study  with  its  well-lilled  shelves,  all  reminded 
me  of  the  past.  Tears  came  to  my  eyes  as  I  re(;alled 
the  bitter  changes  I  had  seen  since  leaving  that  sunny 
home ! 


AGNES  llEEF.  129 


CITAPTEPv  XXn. 


I  HAD  not  been  long  in  the  conservatory  wlien  I 
heard  the  wheels  of  a  carriage.  Mr.  Bristed  had 
returned.  lie  ascended  the  steps :  I  heard  his  voice 
in  the  hall.  His  first  words  were  an  inquiry  after 
my  welfare.  lie  was  told  that  I  was  better.  Passing 
through  his  apartments,  he  entered  the  study.  I 
could  see  him  plainly  from  the  windows  of  the  con- 
servatory. He  looked,  I  thonght,  thin  and  sad ;'  his 
hair  had  become  sprinkled  with  gray  since  the  time 
when  I  resided  in  his  mansion.  Turning  to  Marj^, 
who  was  waiting  there  for  me,  he  said :  "  I  feel  faint ; 
bring  me  a  cup  of  tea." 

Mary  left  the  room  on  her  mission,  and  I  stole 
from  my  hiding  place. 

"  Mr.  Bristed,"  whispered  I,  coming  softly  up  be- 
hind his  chair. 

He  started.  "  Whose  voice  is  that  ?  Agnes,  where 
are  you  ? " 

"  Here,  sir,"  I  answered,  as  I  touched  him  lightly. 

He  turned  toward  me,  his  face  flushed  with  plea- 
sure, his  eyes  expectant. 

"  You,  Agnes  —  you,  verily  ?  How  came  you  here  ? 
I  thought  you  were  ill  on  your  pillow.  What  pleas- 
ant trick  is  this  you  have  been  playing  me  ? "  Then 
taking  both  my  hands  in  his  and  surveying  me,  his 
eyes  the  while  beaming  with  soft  pleasure,  he  said : 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  happy  that  you  are  better.  But  you 
are  wrong  to  come  here ;  you  will  make  yourself  ill 


again." 


I  told  him  how  I  had  awakened,  and  of  my  glad 


130  CHARLOTTE  BRONTIJ. 

purju-isc  in  iindini^  myself  in  my  old  chamber  again, 
and  how  1  had  insisted  on  comini^  down  to  tliank 
him  for  his  kindness  in  brinc^ini;  me  hither, 

"  Don't  thank  me,  Agnes ;  for  you  I  could  do  any- 
thing. This  place  shall  always  be  your  home.  Some 
day,  Agnes,  you  may  learn  to  appreciate  the  worth 
of  a  heart  that  truly  loves  you." 

1  fell  upon  my  knees  before  him.  "  O  Mr.  Bris- 
ted,  I  do  appreciate!"  I  cried.  "  I  do  know  that  you 
love  me.  Let  me  live  for  you.  Let  me  by  a  life  of 
devotion  atone  for  the  mistakes  of  the  past ! " 

lie  lifted  me  up,  and  folded   me  to   his   breast. 


CHAPTER  XXin. 

A  FEW  weeks  of  balmy  spring  air  and  soft  sunshine 
completely  restored  me  to  health. 

One  day  when  strolling  in  company  with  Mr. 
Bristed  through  a  path  blooming  with  early  hya- 
cinths and  crocuses,  I  ventured  to  ask  liim  a1)out  my 
school. 

"It  is  entirely  broken  up,  Agnes.  After  the  fear- 
ful tragedy  that  transpired  within  its  walls,  your 
pupils  scattered  like  dust  in  the  wind.  I  arrived  the 
next  morning  after  the  death  of  Ilichard,  uncon- 
scious of  what  had  occui'red  in  my  absence,  but 
intending  to  take  you  home  with  me.  I  found  you, 
as  I  then  thought,  on  your  death-bed.  I  settled  with 
your  separate  teachers,  and  closed  the  school.  AVith 
the   French  woman  who   claimed    to   be  Hichard's 


AGNES  REEF.  131 

wife,  and  witli  whom  lie  had  probably  gone  through 
tlie  form  of  marriage,  as  with  you,  I  made  an  ar- 
rangement satisfactory  to  her  to  sell  the  property 
and  give  her  an  equivalent  for  its  value." 

"But  what  motive,"  I  asked  hesitatingly,  "could 
Richard  have  had  for  his  course?" 

"  MotiA-e  ?  The  same  that  had  actuated  him  through 
life.  With  you,  Agnes,  he  would  have  lived  proba- 
bly as  he  did  with  others,  until  his  versatile  heart 
demanded  a  change.  Then,  with  your  little  estate 
in  his  hands  and  Herbert's  property  in  his  power,  he 
would  have  deserted  you  for  some  new  beauty. 

"  But  let  the  grave  cover  his  mistakes  and  e^^ls.  I 
believe  that  a  good  God  will  not  punish  him  too 
severely  for  propensities  which  he  inherited." 

Once  more  I  yielded  to  the  cliarms  of  companion- 
ship and  love.  Severe  trials  had  proved  Mr.  Bristed's 
worth,  and  when  he  again  asked  me  to  make  the 
remnant  of  his  life  happy  by  my  care  and  love — to 
become  his  wife,  and  share  his  home,  and  reign 
queen  of  his  heart — I  consented.  When  the  June 
roses  blossomed,  we  Avere  married.  The  balmy  air 
and  opening  buds  spoke  of  a  new  life.  They  ij\^\- 
fied  my  new  life,  truly.  The  glitter  and  gloss  which 
had  deceived  me  in  youth  would  never  beguile  me 
more.  I  had  learned  that  it  was  not  the  external 
man,  but  the  internal  that  was  worthy  of  love. 

The  shadowy  form  of  Alice  never  troubled  me 
again.  I  believe  reparation  can  be  made  beyond  the 
tomb,  and  that  in  some  far-oif  world  the  new-born 
spirit  of  Richard  atones  to  Alice  and  Herbert  for 
the  wrong  he  did  them  in  this. 


ELIZ^YBETII  BAKE-ETT  BROWNING 


TO  HER  n  US  BAND. 


Dead  !  dead !    Yoii  call  her  dead ! 
You  cannot  see  her  in  her  ^lad  surprise, 
Kissing  the  tear-drops  from  your  v/eeping  eyes; 
Moving  about  you  through  the  ambient  air, 
Smoothing  the  whitening  x-ipples  of  your  hair. 

Dead  !  dead !    You  call  her  dead ! 
You  cannot  see  the  flowers  she  daily  twines 
In  garlands  for  you,  from  iunnortal  vlacs ; 
The  danger  she  averts  you  never  know ; 
For  her  sweet  care  you  only  tears  bestow. 

Dead  \  dead !     You  call  her  dead  \ 
Vainly  you'll  wait  until  the  last  trump  sound ! 
Vainly  your  love  entombed  beneath  the  ground ! 
Vainly  in  Idrk-yard  raise  your  moiuTifiil  wad ! 
Your  loved  is  living  in  some  sunnier  vale. 

Dead !  dead  !    You  call  her  dead  ! 
You  think  her  gone  to  her  eternal  rest, 
Like  some  strange  bird  forever  left  her  nest ! 
Her  sweet  voice  hush'd  within  the  sdent  grave, 
While  o'er  her  dust  the  weeping  willows  wave. 

Dead  !  dead  !     You  call  her  dead ! 

And  yet  she  lives,  and  loves !     Oh,  wondrous  truth  ! 

In  golden  skies  she  breathes  immortal  youth  ! 

Look  upward !  A\'herc  the  roseate  smiset  beams, 

Her  airy  form  amid  the  brightness  gleams ! 

(132) 


TO  UER  HUSBAND.  133 

Dead !  dead !    You  call  her  dead  ! 
Oh,  speak  not  thus !  her  tender  heart  you  grieve, 
And  'twixt  her  love  and  yours  a  barrier  weave  I 
Call  her  by  sweetest  name,  your  voice  she'll  hear, 
And  through  the  darkness  like  a  star  appear. 

Dead !  dead !     You  call  her  dead ! 
Lift  up  your  eyes  !  she  is  no  longer  dead ! 
In  your  lone  path  the  unseen  angels  tread ! 
And  when  your  weary  night  of  earth  shall  close, 
She'll  lead  you  where  eternal  summer  blows. 

12 


ARTEMUS  WARD. 


IN  AND  OUT  OF  PURGATORV. 
ARTEMTJS  ward's    LECTURES  TO  POOR,    PERISniNQ    HUMANITY. 

LECTER  I. 

You'll  remember,  relatives  and  nabors,  how  I 
crost  the  Atlantic  Ocean  and  never  agin  set  foot  on  my 
native  soil.  I  natcrally  thought  my  opportunities 
there,  in  the  British  Mooseum  and  with  tliose  Egyptian 
Carcasses  dun  up  in  rags,  and  remaining  for  the  space 
of  six  days  and  six  nights  with  a  skeleton  grinning  at 
me  and  pointing  its  long  skinless  fingers  in  my  face 
and  looking  in  an  aM^ful  licentious  manner,  showing  its 
pivoted  legs  —  I  say  I  naterally  thought  such  an  nn- 
heard-of  experience  would  have  prepared  me  for 
"  the  awful  clian2;e  "  that  follered.     But  it  didn't. 

One  nite,  cummin'  hum  from  the  Mooseum,  Mdiere 
I  had  been  instructin'  and  elevatin'  several  thousand 
pussons,  male  and  female,  I  innocently  swallered  a 
fog  —  swallered  it  hull.  I'd  bin  swallerin  on  'em  ever 
since  I'd  bin  in  Enji-land,  but  that  niji-ht  1  took  in  a  biiz;- 
ger  one  than  ever,  and  it  made  me  sick. 

I  sent  for  the  physicians  that  received  the  patronage 

of   the  noble  lords  and   dooks  and   they  made   me 

sicker;    and  finally  for  the  physicain  "  to  her  most 

(134) 


JiV  AND  OUT  OF  PURGATORY.  135 

gracious  majist}^  the  Queen  of  Great  Britain,"  —  but 
their  aristocratic  attention  to  nie  was  of  no  use.  As 
I  lie  tossing  on  Avhat  is  known  as  "the  bed  of  pain," 
I  seed  a  big  light  coming  through  the  dark  towards 
me.  Behind  that  light  appeared  a  grim  skeleton, 
just  like  the  pictur  of  Death  in  the  Alminack,  walk- 
in'  on  tij)toe  toward  me ;  and  quicker  than  a  wink 
he  put  out  his  long  bony  hand  and  touched  me  — 
firstly,  in  the  pit  of  the  stomach,  so  I  couldn't  holler ; 
nextly,  he  pressed  his  finger  tips  on  my  eye-balls, 
and  they  sunk  right  bade  into  their  sockets. 

I  tried  to  shake  him  off,  and  to  yell,  but  I  couldn't ! 
Then  1  knew  I  was  "dun  fur."  Next  came  what  a 
printer's  devil  would  call  a blank. 

I  was  skeered  out  of  my  seven  senses,  and  when  I 
cum  to  and  tried  to  recolect  myself,  I  w^as  like  the 
old  woman  in  the  song  who  fell  asleep,  and 

"By  came  a  pedlar  and  Ms  name  was  Stout 
And  he  cut  her  petticoats  all  round  about ; 
He  cut  her  petticoats  up  to  her  knees, 
Which  made  the  old  woman  begin  for  to  freeze." 

I  was  in  the  same  predicament,  for  I  was  now 
only  in  my  bare  bones,  and  knew  I  was  a  rolecking 
old  skeleton. 

Wall,  it  gin  me  an  awfiil  shock  to  find  myself 
like  a  skull  and  cross-bones  on  a  tombstone,  sittin' 
on  my  own  coffin ! 

Presently  I  was  grappled  by  a  big  worm  with  a 
hundred  legs.  lie  then  sent  for  his  feller  worms, 
and  they  licked  me  from  skull  to  toe-jint.  After  I 
had  stood  the  lickin'  as  long  as  I  could  (they  tickled 


13G  ARTEMUS   WARD. 

so),  I  concluded  to  nm  away,  so  I  started  on  a  fnll 
gallop,  and  arter  I  liad  run  awhile,  where  should  I 
fetch  up  1)ut  in  the  vicinity  of  Vic's  Palace.  I  laiow'd 
hy  pussonal  experience  suthin'  of  the  feelin'  manner 
with  Avhich  the  British  public  look  npon  the  Royal 
Family,  and  a  sensation  of  relief  cmn  over  my 
mind  as  I  thought  if  I  once  entered  their  ground  no 
one  dared  foller  me.  So  I  gin  a  spring  and  leaped 
right  atop  of  the  middle  chimny,  Owin'  to  private 
considerations,  I  did'nt  mind  the  soot,  but  I  clambered 
do^vn,  and  there  I  was,  to  my  amazement,  rite  in  the 
private  apartments  of  the  Queen.  Slie  M'as  sittin' 
at  a  table  lookin'  at  a  dogerotipe  of  Prince  Albert ; 
and  I  walked  straight  up  to  her,  not  feelin'  a  bit 
af eared,  and  making  my  manners,  axed  her  if  I 
didn't  resemble  the  Prince?  —  rememberin'  that  the 
preacher  had  kindly  said  over  my  coffin  that  "  there 
w^as  no  distinction  in  the  grave." 

I  thought  tliat  as  I  was  a  pooty  gay  image  of  Death, 
I  might  remind  her  of  the  "  Prince  Consort." 

She  looked  up  kinder  sideways  as  I  spoke,  but  she 
must  have  bin  a  leetle  hard  o'  hearing,  for  she  shook 
her  head. 

Then  I  thought  Pd  try  her  on  another  tack.  So  I 
placed  my  hands  on  my  shakey  knees,  and  bendin' 
over  in  this  guise,  so  she  could  see  me  plaiidy,  while 
my  teeth  rattled  in  my  skull  as  I  shook  my  head  at 
her  and  growled : 

"Ilaint  you  afeared  of  me.  Madam?"  With  the 
pirsistent  obstinacy  of  the  feminine  gender,  she  re- 
fused to  notice  me.  So  I  thought  she  was  kinder 
"  set  up  on  her  pins,"  and  I  shouted  louder: 


7iV  AND   OUT  OF  PUROATORY.  137 

"  Yictoria  Brouni  !  Aiiit  yon  afeared  of  me  ?  Aiiit 
you  afeared  I'll  tell  Prince  Albert  of  your  dooinh?'''' 

At  that  she  gin  an  awful  yell,  and  flung  herself 
do^vn  upon  a  yaller  satin  divan,  trimed  with  gold,  and 
slobbered  it  all  over  with  tears. 

I  know'd  then  I  had  a  "  onission  to perform,,^^  and 
that  my  fleshless  bones  were  not  given  me  for  useless 
pleasure,  but  as  a  "  warnin'  to  my  race." 

Arter  this  adventer  I  left  the  palace  as  I  had  en- 
tered it,  "  leavin'  not  a  trace  behind  me." 

Since  that  affair,  I  have  bin  goin'  about  "doin' 
good,"  frightnin'  the  wicked  into  fits,  and  follerin'  in 
the  steps  of  the  parsen,  and  thus  working  my  way 
out  of  Purgatory. 


LECTER  II. 
AKTEMUS  WAKD. — OUT   OP  PURGATORY. 

Pelatives  and  ISTabors,  —  Thinkin'  you'll,  like  to 
know  whether  I'd  bin  roastin'  in  brimstone,  along  ^\\t\\ 
Solomen  and  Lot's  wife,  and  that  you  might  feel 
consarned  to  know  sumthin'  about  my  further  ad  ven- 
ters, I'll  continoo.    . 

One  mornin'  soon  after  this,  havin'  spent  a  rest- 
less nite,  I  was  thinkin'  what  I  had  best  do,  when  1 
seed,  cumin'  rite  out  of  a  big  marble  edifice,  a  nice  little 
woman  about  as  raw-boned  as  myself.  As  she  carried 
an  open  paper  in  her  hand  which  was  certified  to  by 
12* 


138  ARTEMUS   WAJtD 

two  Ijisliops  and  three  clergeymen  that  slie'd  bin  bap- 
tised and  her  sins  waslied  away,  1  felt  it  woukl  be 
safe  for  me  t(i  fuller  her,  knowin'  I  had  ni)  such 
dockerment  to  admit  me  into  the  good  graces  of 
Abraham  or  Peter,  or  whatever  porter  might  keep 
the  gates  of  Paradise. 

She  seemed  kinder  skeered  and  tremblin'  like  for 
a  minit,  not  knowin'  what  to  do ;  then  with  a  sudden 
start  she  spread  herself  out  just  like  the  cagel  of 
Ameriky,  and  soared  rite  up  into  the  sky  witli  nothin' 
to  histe  her  by.  I  felt  in  my  heart  to  foUer  her,  and 
spread  out  just  as  she  did,  keeping  near  her  on  tlie  sly. 

As  she  went  on  she  began  to  shine  like  a  star, 
shootin'  on  tln-ougli  the  azure  heayeus  for  all  the 
world  like  a  sky-rocket. 

That  put  me  on  my  pluck,  and  I  bust  out  just  like 
a  sky-rocket  too.  My  blazers  !  If  it  didn't  make  my 
head  spin. 

AVhen  I  collected  my  idees,  I  thought  I'd  look  and 
see  if  I  resembled  a  glow-worm  behind,  and  there, 
by  thunder,  was  a  long  stream  of  light,  just  like  the 
tail  of  a  comet !  I  tell  you,  I  felt  happy !  She's 
regenerated  me,  thought  I;  and  I,  too,  am  one  of 
the  "shinino;  hosts"!  And  then  directlv,  without 
any  warnin'  or  noise  of  any  kind,  all  around  began 
to  look  about  the  color  of  a  valler  sun-flower,  and  I 
began  to  scent  a,  ])(.)werful  smell  of  roses  and  violets. 

The  female  sank  down  in  tlie  golden  air,  and  I 
kept  cluss  beside  her,  and  as  she  ke})t  dro])pin'  she 
suddenly  changed,  like  the  old  woman  in  the  fairy- 
book,  into  a  l)ouncin'  girl,  the  very  pictur  of  the 
goddess  of  liberty ! " 


IN  AND   OUT  OF  PURGATORY.  139 

Arter  this,  she  turned  and  sn)iled  on  me.  She 
looked  just  like  alabaster  cream ;  tlie  most  dazzling-, 
est  creetur  that  ever  startled  the  beholder ! 

I  was  took  quite  aback  when  she  liekl  out  her  little 
hand  for  mine;  I  felt  kinder  delicate  like  that  she 
should  see  my  l)ig  jints.  But  howsomever,  "  here 
goes,"  said  I,  and  I  stuck  out  my  bony  fist,  and,  by 
Jupiter,  it  was  kivered  with  flesh,  jest  as  soft  and 
delicate  as  Uncle  Sam's  babies ! ! ! 

I  stood  starin'  from  my  hands  to  her  about  a  minit, 
and  then  she  bust  out  a-laughin',  and  I  bust  out 
a-laughin'  too ! 

"Howshaller  von  be!"  said  she. 

"  It's  duced  amoosin',"  said  I. 

"  Who  be  you  ?  "  said  she. 

"  Artemus  Ward,  the  great  lecterer  on  '  Women's 
Kites  and  Mormons,' "  said  I. 

At  this  she  seemed  mighty  tickled. 

"I  heerd  you  speak  on  those  momentous  subjects 
in  Liverpool,"  said  she. 

"  And  arter  that  when  I  read  the  affectin'  account 
of  your  death  in  a  strange  land,  I  cried." 

"  Cried  ?  "  said  I,  ''  I'm  much  obleeged  to  you,  but 
there's  nothin'  to  cry  for  as  I  know." 

"  So  there  be'nt,"  said  she,  puckerin'  up  her  pretty 
little  mouth ;  "  but  tell  me,  now,  is  this  reely  you  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  I,  "  whether  its  reely  myself 
or  not,  for  I  haven't  seed  myself — how  do  I  look? " 

She  naterally  blushed  and  answered : 

" '  Ansoni." 

That  was  too  much  for  me.  I  took  her  round  her 
waist  and  whispered — I  wont  tell  you  what. 


]  !0  ARTEMUS   WARD. 

She  shook  licr  head  so  tluit  tlic  riiiij^lcts  fell  down 
all  over  her  neck  like  the  ashes  from  a  tohaccy  pipe, 
and  in  a  ini^htv  re])ro\iir  manner  said: 

"  Artemus  Ward,  1  am  a  poetess  !  " 

(By  Jupiter!  that  was  a  stunner.) 

"  Is  it  Mrs.  Browning  f  "  said  I,  ready  to  drop  on 
my  knees  ( thinkin'  of  Robert). 

She  shook  her  head  agin,  and  moved  off,  and  I 
follered,  kinder  ashamed  of  bein'  so  abrupt.  Look- 
in'  loftily  at  me,  she  said  : 

"  I  must  leave  you." 

"  Leave  me ! "  said  I,  "  You  cruel  monster  of  beauty ! 
Lea^-e  when  I  am  sealed  to  you  'i  " 

(That  kinder  frightened  her— I  learned  suthin' 
from  bein'  among  the  Mormons.) 

"  You  may  f<jller  me,"  said  she,  while  descendin' 
in  the  midst  of  a  garden  which  opened  rite  before  us. 
I  did  as  she  advised,  and  stepped  rite  down  in  a  place 
where  there  was  a.  mighty  display  of  trees,  flowers, 
and  fountains,  and  a  pretty  big  sprinklin'  of  people. 

Good  Heavens !  thought  I.  Is  tliis  the  New  Jeru- 
salem ?  and  lookin'  around  timidly  for  the  man  with 
the  key,  fearin'  I  might  be  turned  out,  but  seein' 
nothin'  but  connn<;n  lookin'  men  and  women,  and  no 
"flauiin'  cherubim,"  and  creaters  with  wings  stuck 
on  their  heads,  and  no  bodies,  such  as  I  had  naterally 
expected  to  find  in  such  a  place,  I  took  courage  and 
stept  forward  boldly. 

The  people  all  commenced  crvin'  out  as  loud  as 
they  could : 

"  Artemus  Ward  !  Artenms  AV^ard !  " 

I  felt  kiuder  abashed  at  this,  but  advanced  and 
called  out,  "  Hear !  hear !     Friends,  it's  an  amazin' 


IN  AND  OUT  OF  rUnCrATORY.  141 

mj^stery  how  you  know'd  my  name."  (I  felt  diffident 
at  not  havin'  my  lecter  in  my  pocket,  and  not  bein' 
accustomed  to  speakin'  verbatim.)  Ilowsumever,  as 
tliey  continooed  to  clap  tlieir  hands  and  shout,  I  got 
together  all  the  brass  I  used  to  carry  "  down  East," 
and  jumped  right  atop  of  one  of  the  roarin'  fountains 
— the  very  luggest  on  'em  all.  I  surmised  it  was 
kinder  dangerous,  havin'  always  experienced  a  relig- 
ious awe  of  the  "  water  of  life,"  and  not  knowin'  but 
what  this  might  be  it.  "Here  goes,"  said  I;  "faint 
heart  never  won  fair  lady,"  for  rite  at  the  foot  was 
that  bootiful  poetess  to  whom  allusion  has  been 
made,  lookin'  straight  at  me  with  all  her  eyes, 

I  wanted  to  make  a  grand  impression  and  let  'em 
know  that  I  cum  from  a  nation  that  could  fight  for 
the  Constitution,  and  wasn't  afeard  of  spirits.  And 
as  for  the  "gold  and  pearls,"  the  "jasper  and  the 
sardonix,"  they  needn't  expect  to  snub  me  off  with 
this,  for  I  had  been  all  through  the  gold  and  silver 
regions  of  Ameriky,  and  could  tell  as  big  a  story  as 
any  on  'em. 

"  The  fact  is,  friends  and  nabors,"  said  I,  "  it  is  one 
thing  to  read  of  a  place,  and  another  to  see  it.  Now 
I  must  say,  that  geography  and  book  of  travels  called 
the  'Bible'  is  suthin'  like  'Gulliver's  Xi'avels,'  rather 
loose  in  description ;  and,  for  all  I  see  around  me,  the 
grand  nation  of  Ameriky  can  beat  you  all  holler  in 
wonders." 

Havin'  thus  spoj^en  a  good  word  for  my  country, 
I  dismissed  them,  and  hurried  back  to  commence 
these  lecters,  which  is  only  a  beginnin'  of  what  I 
intend  to  do  for  the  Amerikan  People. 


i^lr^ 


LADY  BLESSINGTOK 


DISTINGUISHED    WOMEN. 


It  is  remarkable  to  what  a  degree  woman  devel-: 
ops  her  intellect  in  the  spirit  world. 

Freed  from  the  cares  of  maternity,  she  seems  like 
some  young  goddess  fresh  from  the  hand  of  Jupiter. 
All  nerve,  electricity,  and  motion  —  her  thoughts 
sparkling  and  full  of  flavor,  and  light,  and  life, 
this  new-born  Eve  of  the  celestial  kingdom  inspires 
the  down-trodden  Eve  of  earth,  and  kindles  to  a 
blaze  the  whole  male  population  of  the  spiritual 
globe. 

Prominent  among;  the  women  of  the  times  who 
have  emigrated  to  these  shores  from  populous  America, 
stands  Margaret  Fuller  —  a  tall  and  impressive  blonde 
—  a  woman  of  strong  bias,  and  resolute  as  a  lion  when 
she  has  set  foot  u})on  a  project.  Earnest,  passionate, 
and  brilliant  in  conversation,  she  wields  a  powerful 
influence  over  many  minds  of  a  peculiar  order;  and 
through  the  few  mediums  whom  she  selects  to  repre- 
sent her  characteristics,  she  displays  a  calmness  and 
coolness  of  reasoning  and  an  excellence  of  judgment 
such    as    few    are     able  to    exhibit    thus    second 

handed. 

(143) 


mSTINGUlSHED    WOMEK  143 

She  has,  through  the  exercise  of  her  genius,  erected 
a  beautiful  villa  upon  a  southern  island,  wherein  she 
has  displayed  her  poetic  taste  to  advantage.  There,  in 
the  midst  of  a  luxuriant  garden,  she  resides  with  her 
beautiful  Angelo,  a  child  of  graceful  form  who  was 
washed  ashore  from  the  sad  wreck  years  ago,  but 
now  approaching  the  years  of  manhood,  and  in  his 
looks  the  ^'ery  personification  of  a  yomig  Mercury, 
blending  the  fire  and  passion  of  a  Southern  nature 
with  the  zeal  and  activity  of  the  JSTortliern. 

Count  Ossoli  and  his  noble  wife  tear  themselves 
away  from  the  pleasures  of  this  delightful  state  of 
existence  and  devote  their  sacred  energies  to  the 
enfranchisement  of  Italy. 

No  Koman  patriot,  neither  Garibaldi  nor  any  of 
his  compeers,  equals  them  in  their  efforts  for  the 
freedom  of  that  sunny  land. 

Madame  Ossoli  is  sanguine  of  success. 

Defeat  she  considers  merely  the  plough  and  har- 
row for  the  ripe  harvest  of  victory  which  will  follow. 

From  her  own  eloquent  lips  I  have  heard  her 
address  to  the  Italian  soldiers  who,  defeated  and 
killed,  marched  to  the  spirit  land. 

She  told  them  how  she,  in  the  midst  of  her  new- 
born joy,  in  sight  of  her  own  native  land,  fought  the 
fierce  battle  of  the  briny  weaves,  and  felt  as  ^he  sat 
dying  on  the  sinking  M-reck,  that  all  she  had  striven 
for  was  in  vain;  how  she  had  found  that  defeat, 
that  cngulping  billow,  had  proved  in  the  end  a  vic- 
tory, and  had  placed  her  where  she  could  watch  over 
the  destiny  of  Italia,  her  adopted  country,  and  work 
for  its  regeneration,  and  fight  for  its  liberty,  as  she 


144  LADY  DLESSINGTOy. 

could  not  have  done  had  she  been  more  successful  in 
her  plans  on  earth. 

Another  Anioriean  woman,  of  less  note,  but  also  a 
reformer,  is  Eliza  Farnliam.  She  is  not  so  emotional, 
has  less  sentiment  and  cc^nsidcrable  originality,  and  is 
honest  in  her  opinions  and  determined  in  her  efforts 
to  uplift  her  sex  and  ameliorate  their  condition. 

She  wields  a  powerful  influence  over  a  certain 
clique  in  the  spirit  world  and  on  earth,  and  therefore 
deserves  to  be  noticed  among  the  women  of  the  times. 
In  person  she  is  of  dark  complexion,  with  black  hair 
and  eyes,  and  strongly-marked  brows,  possessing 
much  vivacity  and  caustic  wit. 

She  is  matron  of  a  large  Institution  or  Circulorium, 
erected  for  the  use  of  those  spirits  who  make  a  practice 
of  communicating  with  the  inhabitants  of  earth.  They 
there  meet  to  converse  upon  the  various  means  which 
they  employ  for  transmitting  intelligence,  and  to 
relate  their  successes  and  defeats  with  the  various 
trance  and  clairvoyant  mediums  through  whom  they 
operate.  There  congregate  tliose  lecturers  and  ora- 
tors who  discourse  through  the  organisms  of  numer- 
ous trance  and  inspirational  mediums  on  earth.  There 
also  convene  physicians  and  '*'  medicine  men  "  who 
control  the  large  number  of  liealino;  mediums  who  ex- 
ercise  their  power  throughout  the  United  States  and 
Europe.  There,  also,  gather  the  prophets  and  seei's, 
who,  with  vision  clearer  than  that  of  ordinary  spirits, 
warn  mankind  of  danger  and  impress  indi\iduals  to 
pursue  certain  courses  of  action,  to  go  or  come,  to  un- 
dertake and  prosecute  great  designs  for  the  seeming 
Vv'eal  or  woe  of  humanity. 


DISTINGUISHED    WOMEN.  145 

She  presides  over  this  estal)lishraent  with  dignity 
and  intelligence,  delivers  a  lecture  once  or  twice  a 
week,  and  is  noted  for  her  belief  in  the  superiority  of 
woman  over  the  niascnline  sex,  while  she  seeks  the 
association  of  men  of  intellect  in  preference ! 
(leather  a  paradox,  I  think !). 

Another  woman  of  mark,  whose  name  perhaps 
should  have  stood  first  on  my  list,  as  she  stands  first 
in  rank  among  those  who  have  proven  by  their  pro- 
ductions the  intellectual  power  of  woman,  is  Eliza- 
beth Barrett  Browning,  a  woman  all  soul  and  mind, 
whose  very  eyes  seem  thinking  orbs,  so  much  she 
looks,  tells,  and  acts  through  them :  a  little  waif  of 
a  lady  is  she,  with  tresses  of  dark  waAy  hair,  and 
looking  like  some  prophetic  bird  —  a  song  —  a  voice, 
—  a  Pythoness  —  a  very  Oracle!  She  can  project 
herself  as  few  spirits  can.  One  may  feel  the  pecu- 
liar power  —  the  perfume,  so  to  speak  —  of  her  spirit 
for  miles  and  miles. 

Yet  this  lady  appears  to  me  shy  and  reserved. 
She  can  feel  with  humanity,  but  she  cannot  assimilate 
with  it.  She  could  die  for  the  race  like  Christ,  but 
like  him  she  must  have  a  few  chosen  followers. 

The  world  at  large  knows  her  not.  This  is  an 
anomaly,  but  true  of  her  as  of  other  great  reformers. 

This  lady,  feeling  so  much  for  humanity,  yet  dwell- 
ing so  apart  from  them,  lives,  as  a  poetess  should  live, 
in  one  of  the  pleasantest  nooks  in  the  upper  world,  a 
mansion  which  is  of  itself  a  divine  poem  — the  off- 
spring of  a  mind  no  less  than  Michael  Angelo  — the 
very  palace  he  occupied  when,  some  centuries  ago,  he 
first  entered  the  spirit  world. 
13 


146  LADY  BLESfilXGTOK 

From  tliis  lofty  aviary  she  still  sends  forth  her 
delicious  strains.  The  children  of  earth  hearthem  in 
fainter  notes  through  young  poets  who  catch  her  in- 
spiration. "What  she  is  doing  for  women  in  the 
world  she  inhabits  will  be  felt  ere  long  in  both  the 
continents  of  Europe  and  An^erica. 

Another  remarkable  person  in  this  coterie  of  illus- 
trious women  must  be  mentioned  —  Charlotte  Bronte 
—  a  lady  who  feels  the  true  dignity  and  intellect  of 
her  sex  with  a  force  akin  to  manliness.  Modest  and 
retiring,  she  would  yet  pick  up  the  gaimtlet  like  any 
knight  against  the  man  who  should  say  of  a  work  of 
literary  merit,  "  that  it  could  never  have  been  penned 
by  a  woman." 

Soft  and  delicate,  yet  strong  and  full  of  heroism, 
she  represents  woman,  quicker  to  perceive  the  right 
than  mauj  and  capable  of  midergoing  greater  perils 
in  executing  her  duty. 

Charlotte  Bronte  is  a  slight,  brown-haired  girl, 
with  an  eye  full  of  clairvoyant  power.  AVith  her 
father,  sisters,  and  poor  reprobate  of  a  brother,  all 
united  like  a  cluster-diamond,  she  lives  in  a  home 
which  they  have  selected,  remarkable  for  its  wild  and 
l^icturesque  beauty. 

As  a  family  they  are  like  the  ancient  Scots, 
clannish  —  not  in  a  vulgar  acceptation  of  the  term,  but 
for  the  reason  that  they  are  kindred  souls.  Tlie 
torch  of  genius  flames  in  every  member  of  that  family, 
but  Charlotte  is  the  mover,  the  inspirer  of  them  all. 
She  possesses  a  greater  degree  of  concentration  and 
energy,  and  is  more  chivalrous  and  venturesome. 
She  is  exceedingly  interested  in  woman,  and  devotes 


DISTINOUISnE   WOMEN.  147 

daily  a  portion  of  her  time  to  visiting  earth  and  sug- 
gesting ideas  and  thoughts  to  those  whom  she  can  in- 
fluence. 

In  her  new  home  she  draws  around  her  a  circle  of 
chosen  spirits,  among  whom  may  l^e  mentioned 
Thackeray  (who  esteems  her  as  about  the  finest  speci- 
men of  womanhood  he  has  seen),  Prince  Albert, 
Scott,  Hawthorne,  the  German  Goethe,  De  Quincy, 
and  others. 

Few  writers  of  romance  have  done  more  than  she 
towards  raising  her  sex  above  the  frivolities  of  dress 
and  fortune,  and  placing  them  where  they  shine  con- 
spicuous for  their  intellect  and  noble  affections. 

Bold  and  unsparing  in  analyzing  woman's  heart  in 
its  uncontaminated  simplicity  as  well  as  in  its  subtlety, 
she  lio-hted  a  torch  in  behalf  of  her  sex  which  flamed 
throughout  the  literary  world,  startling  and  dazzling 
the  beholder — a  light  which  will  never  be  quenched. 

Charlotte  Bronte  was  on  earth  what  is  now  known 
as  a  medium.  Her  belief  in  the  supernatural  she 
e\'inced  in  her  works.  If  she  had  not  indicated  so 
much  intellect,  the  critics  would  have  termed  her 
superstitious.  They  have  inferred  that  it  was  the 
loneliness  and  sadness  of  her  life  which  caused  her  to 
imasrine  she  saw  her  beloved  dead  and  heard  unearth- 
ly  voices  calling  her.  But  she  has  since  told  me  that 
those  mysterious  influences  were  not  morbid  fancies, 
but  realities.  Being  thus  endowed  clairvoyantly,  and 
not  only  receptive  but  able  to  impart  that  which  she 
receives,  she  exerts  at  the  present  moment  an  influence 
in  the  world  of  letters  little  dreamed  of  on  earth. 

I  may   here,   without  infringing  on   the   require- 


148  .  LADY  BLESSINGTON. 

ments  of  good  taste,  allude  to  the  tale  she  has  dictated 
through  this  medium.  That  it  is  a  story  of  powerful 
interest,  all  who  read  it  will  confess. 

To  many  minds  it  wall  prove  that  her  power  is  un- 
abated, but  every  reader  will  perceive  the  character- 
istics of  the  Bronte  family  in  the  tale  —  characteristics 
which  cannot  be  imitated  —  M'hich  are  individualized 
in  that  family,  and  breathe  of  the  lone  moor  on 
wdiich  they  spent  their  earth  life,  one  of  sad  struggle 
of  genius  against  circmnstance  and  destiny. 


PROFESSOR   OLMSTEAD. 


THE  LOCALITY  OF  THE  SPIRIT  WORLD,  AND  ITS  MAGNETIC 

RELATIONS  TO  THIS. 

How  near  is  the  spirit  world  to  earth  ?  is  a  ques- 
tion often  put  by  the  inquiring  mind.  Some  suppose 
it  lies  contiguous,  just  in  the  suburbs ;  others  imagine 
the  spirit  world  to  be  within  the  atmosphere  of  this 
earth ;  others  again  set  it  afar  off  in  a  given  locality. 

The  last  theory  is  correct,  and  the  spirit  world  is 
really  several  billions  of  miles  from  earth ;  yet  the 
suppositions  are  true  (in  a  certain  sense),  for  the 
inhabitants  of  the  spirit  world  are  migratory,  and 
there  are  many  millions  of  them  living  within  the 
earth's  atmosphere,  drawn  thither  on  errands  of  pleas- 
ure and  duty. 

But  there  is  a  spiritual  earth  revolving  aroimd  its 
spiritual  sun,  just  as  this  earth  revolves  around  its 
sun. 

It  has  shape  and  form  like  this  planet,  and  is 
indeed  the  spiritual  body  of  the  earth. 

It  existed  before  the  creation  of  man  on  this  globe, 
and  was  ready  for  the  reception  of  the  soul  or  spirit  of 
the  first  human  being  who  perished  on  earth. 

As  a  spirit's  body  is  constructed  fi-om  the  spiritual 
13*  (149) 


150  PROFESSOR  OLMSTEAD. 

eniaiiatioiis  of  man,  so  the  s|)iritual  globe  is  formed 
of  the  magnetic  emanations  of  the  earth.  The  refined 
gases  which  Avere  thrown  off  during  the  process  of  the 
formation  of  the  material  globe  which  man  now  in- 
habits, form  the  basis  of  the  spirit  earth. 

Each  planet  in  the  vast  nni  verse  has  its  correspon- 
dent spirit  world,  and  invisible  magnetic  rays  are 
constantly  exchanging  between  the  spirit  planet  and 
its  earth. 

These  magnetic  currents  or  rays,  like  waves  of 
silver  light,  constantl}^  transmit  thoughts  from  the 
spirit  world  to  this. 

All  spirit  is  matter. 

The  spirit  globe,  being  primarily  composed  of  gases, 
in  revolving  around  its  central  sun  ultimates  in  a 
substance  which  is  similar  to  the  soil  of  your  earth. 

The  same  system  which  marks  the  development 
of  the  material  world  also  is  displayed  in  the  devel- 
opment of  the  spiritual  world. 

Order  is  God.  N^o  spirit  world  can  exist  without 
form,  neither  can  it  exist  without  motion.  Motion 
produces  the  spheroid,  and  the  rotation  of  the  spheroid 
produces  atmosphere  and  diversity  of  surface;  all 
these  variations  characterize  the  spirit  globe. 

When  these  facts  are  carefully  reflected  upon  and 
understood,  the  majesty  of  the  Creator  assmnes  a 
magnitude  most  stupendous. 

The  astronomer  searching  through  space  for  undis- 
covered planets  and  suns,  has  failed  to  fix  his  telescope 
upon  these  spiritual  worlds,  but  the  day  will  come 
when  science  will  discover  their  existence. 

The  spirit  world  is  not  an  arid  desert.     As  I  have 


LOCALITY  OF  THE  SPIRIT  WOULD,         151 

said,  it  has  soil.  It  is  not  a  thin,  vaporish  fiat,  -without 
deptli  or  density ;  and  its  circumference  exceeds  that 
of  the  earth. 

One  of  the  component  elements  of  its  soil  is  mag- 
netism. Its  vegetation  is  of  rapid  growth  and  beau- 
tiful beyond  anything  that  your  planet  can  display. 

As  the  atmosphere  of  the  spirit  world  is  not  so 
dense  as  yours,  and  as  tlie  rays  of  the  spiritual  sun 
are  not  obliged  to  penetrate  through  so  much  cloud 
and  vapor,  the  colors  of  all  objects  are  sparkling  and 
beautiful  in  variety  and  tone. 

The  speciiic  gravity  of  the  spirit  upon  his  globe  is 
not  so  great,  comparatively,  as  that  of  man  in  the 
natural  world.  He  can  rise  in  his  native  air  with 
little  difhculty,  and  can  dart  with  unerring  accuracy 
upon  the  magnetic  current  flowing  from  the  spirit 
world  to  the  one  he  once  inhabited. 

The  investigator  in  searching  for  the  spirit  world 
has  but  to  direct  his  attention  to  the  north  star  and 
his  eye  will  embrace,  unwittingly,  the  locality  of  that 
world.  The  north  pole  is  the  great  gate  which  leads 
to  it  direct. 

The  aurora  borealis  or  Northern  lights  is  an  electric 
current  which  flows  from  that  world  to  earth,  and  is 
sent  in  through  the  great  gate.  The  scintillations  of 
these  rays  are  caught  up  by  the  clouds  and  vapors 
and  are  repeated  in  many  portions  of  the  globe, 
and  faint  rays  from  them  are  seen  even  in  this 
temperate  climate. 


ADAH  ISAACS  MENKEN. 


HOLD  ME  NOT. 

Up  to  tlie  zenith  moimt  I 

Far  into  space  — 
Ah  !  all  thy  tears  I  count, 

Sad,  loving-  face. 


Clasp  not  my  garments  so, 

Love  of  my  soiil ; 
Clinging,  you  drag  me  low, 

Where  tortures  roll. 


Soil  not  my  angel  wing; 

Keep  not  from  rest ; 
How  can  I  upward  spring-, 

Clasped  to  thy  breast  ? 


Hold  me  not,  lover — friend — 

Earth  I  would  fly  ; 
Passion  and  torture  end 

In  the  blest  sky ! 


Life  brought  but  woe  to  me, 

Even  thy  kiss 

Gave  me  but  agony  — 

Remorse  with  bliss ! 

(153) 


HOLD  ME  NOT. 


153 


Let  go  thy  eartlily  hold  — 

Fain  would  I  fly ; 
Voices  with  love  untold 

Call  from  on  high. 

Farewell — the  dregs  are  drank 

Of  life's  sad  cup ; 
It  proved  but  poison  rank ; 

Life's  lease  is  up  1 


K  P.  WILLIS. 


OFF-HAND  SKETCHES. 

SmcE  ray  friend  Morris  joined  me,  we've  been  as 
busy  as  Wall  street  brokers  in  a  gold  panic  —  eyes 
and  ears,  and  every  sense  filled  with  the  novel  sights 
and  sounds  that  greet  us  on  every  side  in  this  most 
delightful,  charming,  incomparably  beautiful  sum- 
mer land. 

"Whom  have  we  not  seen,  from  ]S"apoleon  down  to 
the  last  suicide? 

I  have  a  memorandum  which  would  reach  from 
here  to  Idlewild,  filled  with  tlic  names  of  notables 
and  celebrities,  whom  I  have  met  in  the  short  space 
of  a  year. 

AYe  do  matters  quickly  here,  among  the  celestials. 
I  used  to  think  life  sped  fast  in  the  great  cities  of  Lon- 
don, Paris,  and  Xew  York,  but  we  live  faster  here. 
AVith  e^•ery  means  of  travelling  which  human  inge- 
nuity can  invent — Ayiiig  machines,  balloons,  the  will 
and  the  magnet  —  we  fairly  outdo  thought  and  light, 
which  you  consider  emblems  of  rapidity  on  earth. 

Morris  and  I  made  a  point  of  visiting  Bp-on,  Moore, 

Hunt,  Scott,   and   that  clique.     You  must  bear   in 

mind  that  we  do  not  all  live  on  one  point  of  space 

(154) 


OFF-HAND  SKETCHES.  155 

here;  among  so  many  tlioiTsand  million,  billion,  tril- 
lion, qnadrillion,  sextillion,  and  countless  illions,  there 
must  be  some  persons  who  are  further  apart  than 
Morris  and  I,  who  are  side  by  side ! 

It  is  a  peculiarity  which  you  Yankees  seldom  think 
of,  that  Englishmen  can't  endure  to  live  in  America. 
"Well,  that  peculiarity  is  just  as  active  after  they  "shuf- 
fle off  the  mortal  coil."  They  must  have  their,  little 
England,  even  in  the  spirit  world. 

So  I  telegraphed  to  that  quarter  of  the  celestial 
planet  that  two  strangers  from  the  great  emporium  of 
intellect,  and  ci\ilization,  Xew  York  City,  were  about 
to  visit  that  locality.  "We  so  arranged  our  journey 
as  to  arrive  about  a  day  after  the  dispatch  had  reached 
them. 

It  was  proposed  that  we  should  meet  at  the  beauti- 
ful villa  belono-ino;  to  the  Countess  of  Blessington. 

I  can  assure  you  that  on  ariiving  there  it  was  with 
a  slightly  palpitating  heart  I  ascended  the  noble  steps 
of  her  residence.  The  Countess  met  us  graciously, 
and  by  her  vivacity  and  charming  candor  dispelled 
the  feeling  of  modest  diffidence  as  to  our  merits,  nat- 
urally awakened  by  the  thought  of  being  presented 
to  those  illustrious  persons  who  so  long  held  sway 
over  English  literature. 

Ere  we  were  aware,  we  were  ushered  into  the  midst 
of  a  hilarious  group  of  authors,  who  welcomed  us  in 
a  most  cordial  manner. 

I  did  not  need  to  have  them  introduced  to  mo  by 
name,  as  I  recoo-nized  each  readilv  from  likenesses  I 
had  seen  on  earth. 

Lord  Byron's  countenance  is  much  handsomer  and 


156  I>r.  p.  WILLIS. 

more  spiritualized  in  expressiewi  than  any  portrait  of 
liim  extant.  I  noticed  that  the  deformity  of  his  foot, 
which  had  been  a  severe  affliction  to  him  on  earth, 
was  no  h)n<^er  a[)pareut. 

Scott  looked  as  good  and  as  jovial  as  ever,  and 
Tom  Moore,  the  very  pink  of  perfection  and  elegance. 

As  for  the  Conntess,  when  I  last  saw  her  on  earth  I 
thought  her  incomparable.  But  whether  it  was 
through  the  cosmetic  influences  of  the  spirit  air,  or 
from  other  causes,  she  had  now  become  bewitchingly 
beautiful. 

After  we  had  conversed  awhile  on  general  topics 
and  I  had  answered  their  questions  in  regard  to  the 
changes  which  had  occurred  in  certain  terrestrial  lo- 
calities with  which  they  were  familiar,  th6  Countess 
invited  us  out  to  survey  the  landscape  from  her  bal- 
cony. 

The  view  from  this  point  was  extremely  romantic. 
Just  beyond  the  spacious  park  extended  a  lovely  lake, 
whose  waters  were  of  a  rich  golden-green  color.  Upon 
its  limpid  bosom  several  gondolas  floated,  and  gay 
parties  waved  their  handkerchiefs  to  ns  from  beneath 
the  silken  hangings  as  they  passed. 

"  Countess,"  said  I,  after  my  eye  had  surveyed  the 
fine  landscape  and  nol)le  residence,  "I  am  but  a  Avan- 
dering  Bohemian,  and  you  mnst  excuse  my  audacity 
if  1  ask  how  it  is  possible  that  in  this  "world  of 
shadows"  you  have  surromided  youi-sclf  by  so  much 
tliat  is  beautiful  and  substantial?  You  could  not 
bring  your  title  and  your  hinds  with  you  from  earth. 
Your  jewels  and  costly  raiment  you  must  have  left  be- 
liind  ;  then  wlience  comes  all  this  wealth  and  luxury  ? 


OFF-HAND  SKETCHES.  157 

The  Countess  smiled.  "Ah,"  said  slie,  roguishl}^, 
"you  did  not  study  your  Bible  lesson  well  if  you  did 
not  learn  that  you  could  "'lay  up  treasures  in  heaven. 
Why,  all  the  time  I  was  living  on  earth  I  had  friends 
working  for  me  —  admirers  who  had  been  drawing 
interest  from  my  youthful  talent  and  had  laid  it  up 
to  my  account.  We  go  upon  the  tithe  system  here, 
and  '  render  luito  Caesar  the  things  that  are  Cassar's.' " 

She  told  me  that  works  of  interest  which  are  pub- 
lished on  earth  are  reproduced  in  the  spirit  world 
and  the  author  credited  with  a  tithe  of  what  accrues 
from  them. 

Byron,  Scott,  and  Moore  have  also  been  doing 
double  duty  while  on  earth,  and  have  been  recom- 
pensed for  their  industry  in  the  spirit  world. 

Byron,  she  privately  informed  me,  had  been  united 
to  the  Mary  of  his  early  love,  and  under  her  sweet 
womanly  influence  had  lost  mucli  of  the  misanthropy 
which  had  annoyed  his  friends  in  this  life. 

As  my  stay  was  short,  I  had  only  opportunity  to 
converse  with  these  men  of  mark  on  general  topics. 

'^n  the  whole,  we  spent  a  very  interesting  morning, 
and,  after  partaking  of  refreshments,  we  left,  having 
inquired  after  Count  D  'Orsay,  whom  we  learned  was 
then  on  a  trip  to  earth.  Bidding  adieu  to  the 
Countess  and  her  friends,  we  started  for  the  cele- 
brated island  called  the  "  Golden  Nest,"  which  lies 
in  a  south-westerly  direction  from  the  Countess's  villa. 

After  having  travelled  some  hours  in  our  own  dili- 
gence (?'.  e.,  driven  through  the  air  by  our  own  will), 
moving  along  quite  leisurely  that  we  might  survey 
the  country  beneath  us,  we  reached  a  group  of  beau- 
14 


158  JV.  P.  WILLIS. 

tii'ul  lakes,  reiniuduiii;  me  Ftroiiii;ly  in  size  and  appear- 
ance of  lakes  Erie,  Huron,  Micliigan,  and  Superior, 
the  famed  lakes  of  my  own  native  *dime. 

In  the  centre  of  the  largest  of  these  lakes  lay  the 
island  we  were  seekinjji:.  We  descended  like  skilful 
aeronauts  into  the  centre  of  a  group  of  happy  chil- 
dren, who  were  playing  like  little  fairies  amid  the 
flowers  blooming  profusely  everywhere. 

Singling  out  two  of  the  prettiest,  we  addressed 
them. 

Directly  a  merry  band  gathered  about  ns,  answering 
our  questions  intelligently  and  skipping  before  ns  to 
lead  the  way  to  the  "Golden  Xest,"  as  the  superb 
structure  was  called  in  which  these  little  soul-birds 
w^ere  sheltered. 

Everywhere,  as  we  advanced,  our  eyes  lit  upon  pretty 
bands  of  children;  some  swinging  in  the  tree-boughs 
like  birds,  some  waltzing  in  the  air,  others  sitting  upon 
the  green,  chattering  and.  singing,  filling  the  surround- 
ing air  with  their  melody. 

Certainly  it  was  a  most  enlivening  sight  to  witness 
their  enjoyment.  After  having  amused  ourselves  for 
a  while  with  their  gambols,  we  turned  our  steps 
toward  the  Home. 

The  building  was  oval  in  form,  and  composed  of  a 
jrolden  fleecv  incrustation  from  which  it  derived  it, 
name.   "Within,  the  "  Nest "  was  like  Aladdin's  palace. 

Innumerable  compartments,  hung  with  silks  and 
tissues  of  tender  and  harmonious  colors,  and  deco- 
rated with  birds'  plumage  of  varied  hues,  arrested  the 
eye.  These  spacious  alcoves  were  each  furnished 
with  a  domed  skylight,  adorned  with  hanging  tassels 


OFF-HANI)  SKETCHES.  159 

and  glittering  ornaments.  Ladies  were  bnsy  in 
nearly  all  of  these  compartments  in  instrncting  chil- 
dren under  their  care. 

In  some  that  I  entered  I  was  shown  new-born 
babes  not  an  hour  old,  torn  from  their  mothers'  bosoms 
on  earth,  and  lying  upon  fleecy  pillows,  attended  by 
lovely  women,  who  looked  the  angels  which  they 
were. 

One  of  these  gay  baby-nests  in  which  I  lingered 
was  decorated  with  peculiar  tastef  ulness,  and  seemed 
like  a  perfect  aviary.  Singular  birds  of  splendid 
plumage  were  perched  on  various  projections  about 
the  spacious  apartment,  warbling  away  like  silver 
bells. 

The  lady  of  this  chamber  was  engaged  in  teaching 
a  little  girl  of  some  two  summers  to  mount  to  the 
skylight  by  her  will. 

This  lady,  I  was  informed,  was  the  noble  lady 
R ,  so  famed  for  her  charity  on  earth. 

She  was  very  gracious  and  communicative,  and  told 
me  that  some  children  exercised  their  ability  to  rise 
in  air  more  readily  than  others ;  that  the  difliculties 
their  instructor  had  to  guard  against  weie  the  fickle, 
versatile  nature  of  their  wills,  and  their  inability  for 
continuous  thought.  Their  wayward  minds  could 
not  be  directed  long  at  one  point.  They  would  wan- 
der fi'om  the  path  like  the  poor  little  Babes  in  the 
Wood,  and  on  their  way  to  special  destinations, 
would  change  their  thoughts,  unharness  their  will, 
and  come  suddenly  down,  sometimes  in  lonely  and 
unfrequented  spots. 

Owing  to  this  dereliction,  it  was  found  difficult  to 


IGO  N.  P.  WILLIS. 

make  fi-equcnt  excursions  to  earth  with  them.  Those 
attracted  to  tlieii*  terrestrial  homes  were  attended  by 
ladies  who  had  them  in  charge,  and  who  would  kindly 
accompany  them,  for  one  or  two  weeks,  to  visit  their 
friends  upon  earth. 

I  told  licr  that  I  had  lost  a  child  some  years  ago, 
and  had  thought  till  recently  to  find  it  still  an  infant. 

Many  cases  of  this  kind,  she  said,  had  occurred 
under  her  observation.  People  did  not  view  the  matter 
rationally.  Ladies  had  called  at  the  "  Golden  Nest " 
to  inquire  for  children  that  had  left  earth  twenty  or 
thirty  years  ago,  and  it  was  painful  to  witness  the  dis- 
tress they  exhibited  when  told  that  their  children 
were  grown  men  and  women. 

One  lady  had  called  there  some  three  days  since, 
and  claimed  as  her  own  a  little  child,  an  infant 
about  two  months  old,  who  had  been  brought  from 
earth  three  weeks  previous,  while  the  child  she  had 
lost  had  been  in  the  spirit  world  seventeen  years ! 

But  no  amount  of  argument  would  convince  her 
that  her  child  had  grown  up,  and  that  the  infant  she 
selected  was  not  her  own. 

She  was  finally  permitted  to  take  the  child  away, 
as  they  knew  it  would  be  properly  cared  for.  Many 
of  the  children  while  young  were  thus  adopted. 

"  It  appears  marvellous,"  remarked  this  noble  lady, 
"  that  any  parent  should  wish  to  cramp  the  body  and 
soul  of  his  child  by  keeping  it  in  a  state  of  infancy, 
when,  if  it  had  remained  on  earth,  it  would  neces- 
sarily have  arrived  at  years  of  maturity. 

"Nature  does  not  suspend  her  operations  in  trans- 
planting from  earth  to  heaven !     The  soul  is  formed 


OFF-HAND  SKETCHES.  161 

for  expansion,  and  surely  the  spirit  world  is  not  the 
place  to  suppress  unf  oldment ! " 

As  I  listened  to  her  intelligent  conversation,  I 
blushed  to  be  reminded  of  my  own  error  in  supposing 
my  own  darling,  who  had  reached  the  spirit  world  so 
long  before,  would  greet  me  with  the  prattling  talk  of 
babyhood ! 

Pleased  with  our  visit  and  the  information  we 
had  received,  we  bade  adieu  to  Lady  R.  and  the 
"  Golden  Nest,"  and  pursued  our  flight  in  another 
direction. 

"  Do  let  us  next  find  out,"  said  I  to  Morris,  "  what 
they  do  here  with  criminals ;  there  must  be  many 
a  wicked  reprobate  who  arrives  here  from  earth  fresh 
frottn  murders  and  villanies  of  all  sorts." 

As  I  spoke,  two  grave-looking  gentlemen,  whom  I 
took  to  be  either  doctors  or  judges,  crossed  the  path 
before  us,  and  I  proposed  to  make  these  incpiiries  of 
them. 

Who  should  they  prove  to  be  but  "William  Penn 
and  the  omnipresent  Benjamin  Franklin  ! 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Penn,  in  reply  to  our  questions 
shaking  his  head  deprecatingly  ;  "  ''tis  too  tnie  ;  we  are 
obliged  to  have  what  Swedenborg  calls  "  our  hells," 
for  you  send  your  criminals  from  earth  so  hardened 
that  we  are  compelled  to  keep  them  under  guard. 
Come  with  us  and  we'll  show  you  hoM-  we  treat  them." 

We  were  very  glad  of  this  opportune  meeting,  and 
followed  with  alacrity. 

Presently,  leaving  the  beautiful  country  far  behind 
us,  we  came  upon  a  desert  waste,  and  as  I  am  ex- 
tremely sensitive  to  conditions,  I  felt  somewhat  like  a 
14* 


1G2  iV.  P.  WILLIS. 

criminal  in  passing  through  it.  Having  got  safely 
over,  however,  there  burst  npon  our  sight  a  scene  of 
surpassing  beauty ;  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  ex- 
tended a  most  highly-cultivated  district  of  country. 

Groves  of  fruit  resembling  the  oranges  and  pine- 
apples of  our  tropics,  noble  trees  like  the  palm,  the 
fig,  and  date,  were  to  be  seen  in  every  quarter, 
rearinir  their  bou2:hs  as-ainst  the  summer  skv.  The 
air  was  laden  with  fra^france  from  tree  and  vine. 

Great  bunches  of  purple  grapes  like  the  fabled 
fruit  of  Canaan  in  the  Old  Testament,  a  single  bunch 
of  which  required  two  men  to  bear  it,  drooped  heavily 
from  twininc:  vines,  while  from  many  a  bouirh  and 
twig  swung  golden,  crimson,  and  cream-colored  fruit, 
whi(;h  fairly  made  one's  mouth  Avatcr. 

It  was  a  picture  rich  enougli  in  color  for  a  Claude 
or  Turner, 

"This  is  delicious,"  said  I  to  Penn.  "Do  tell  us 
to  what  fairy  prince  this  magnificent  land  belongs!" 

"  We  will  show  you  the  fairy  prince  himself,  very 
soon,"  said  he.  "Do  you  see  the  tip  of  his  castle 
yonder  ? " 

I  looked,  and  as  we  moved  swiftly  in  the  direction 
indicated  an  unexpected  spectacle  •  loomed  in  sight. 
It  was  a  building  so  delicate  and  perfect  in  its  struc- 
ture that  it  appeared  like  a  vision. 

PilUirs  and  arches,  dome  and  architrave,  were 
wrought  in  a  style  exquisitely  beautiful ;  the  material 
of  M'hich  it  was  composed  seemed  like  polished  sea- 
shells,  so  transparent  that  you  could  see  through  it 
the  forms  of  the  imnates. 

"  This,"  said  William  Penn, "  is  one  of  our  prisons. 
Let  us  enter." 


OFF-HAND  SKETCHES.  1C3 

We  followed  in  amazement,  and  were  ushered  into 
a  hall  hnng  with  paintings  rich  in  design  and  color, 
while  distributed  around  in  various  alcoves  were  cases 
containing  books  and  articles  of  curious  workmanship, 
of  wdiich  I  had  not  yet  learned  the  use. 

This  hall  formed  the  court  within  the  main  build- 
ing. 

From  where  we  stood  we  could  see  hundreds  of 
men  in  white  suits  moving  about.  Some  seemed  en- 
gaged in  conversation,  others  in  sportive  games,  and 
others  in  various  employments. 

"You  do  not  mean  to  tell  us  that  these  men  are 
prisoners,"  said  I. 

"  Yes ;  they  have  passed  for  years  on  earth  a  life  of 
evil,  yet  all  the  beauty  you  behold  here  is  the  Avork 
of  their  hands.  Idleness  is  the  mother  of  crime.  Yv^e 
teach  them  to  become  industrious,  and  surround  them 
witli  beauty  to  develop  their  love  of  harmony. 

"Ignorance  and  poverty  are  supposed  to  be  the 
principal  causes  of  evil  on  earth.  But  many  fearful 
offences  have  been  committed  in  high  places  from 
thwarted  love  and  ambition.  We  have  many  of 
that  character  in  this  prison,  but  they  are  young. 
This  is  intended  as  a  place  to  educate  and  restrain  men 
who  would  return  to  earth  and  incite  impressible  be- 
ings to  evil. 

"  The  material  of  which  this  building  is  composed, 
though  seemingly  so  fragile,  is  a  non-conductor  of 
thouo-ht,  and  while  detained  within  it  the  inmates 
gradually  free  themselves  fi'om  their  old  influences 
and  disorderly  desires. 

"  Cultivating  the  fruits  of  the  earth  calls  into  action 


164  N.  P.   WILLIS. 

only  their  most  harmonious  organs.  A  great  mistake 
made  by  the  legishitors  of  earth  is  in  emph)ying 
criminals  in  stone-cutting,  or  placing  them  in  gangs, 
as  they  do  on  the  Continent,  to  work  the  rugged  road. 

"Employment  of  this  kind  aAvakens  the  very  pro- 
pensities which  should  be  subdued.  The  composing, 
softening  influences  induced  by  tilling  the  soil  would 
go  far  toAvard  converting  your  evil  men  into  good 
citizens." 

I  was  struck  with  the  truthfulness  of  his  suggestions, 
and  put  them  down  in  my  note-book  for  the  benefit 
of  humanity,  and  now  hand  them  over  to  my  readers 
for  consideration. 

After  leaving  this  place  we  paid  a  visit  to  Edgar  A. 
Poe,  whose  unfortunate  life  on  earth  yon  are  all  fa- 
miliar with.  His  brilliant  imagination  we  found  as 
active  as  of  old.  He  welcomed  us  enthusiastically, 
and  eagerly  led  us  into  a  small  theatre  which  he  had 
ccnistructed  and  filled  with  most  marvellous  creations 
from  his  own  fancy.  He  inherited  from  his  father 
and  mother,  who  were  actors,  a  love  for  dramatic  ef- 
fect, and  in  theatrical  impersonations  he  found  some 
vent  for  his  exuberant  ima^-ination. 

"  Stand  here,"  said  he,  j)lacing  us  near  the  entrance; 
"I  have  something  curious  to  show  you."  He  then 
suspended  upon  the  stage  a  curtain,  whose  peculiarity 
was  its  pure,  soft  blue  color,  like  an  Italian  sky. 

"  "Watch,"  said  he,  pointing  his  uplifted  finger  to  the 
lianging.  Presently  appeared  upon  it  figures  like 
shadows  on  a  phantasmagoria. 

One  form  was  that  of  a  female  sitting  upon  a  low 
chair,  apparently  reading  a  book. 


OFF-HAND  SKETCHES.  1G5 

"That,"  said  Poe,  "is  Miss  D.  I  can  control  her 
and  "u^ll  her  to  reflect  her  figure  upon  the  curtain ; 
and  that  man  is  T.  L.  Harris.  It  is  my  own  inven- 
tion," said  he  ;  "I  studied  it  out  and  applied  chemicals 
to  my  (!anvas  till  it  produced  this  sensitive  surface. 
All  I  have  to  do  is  to  send  my  th(jughts  to  them,  and 
will  them  to  appear,  and  there  they  are.  Coleridge 
has  a  similar  curtain,  and  some  few  others.  But  it 
requires  a  peculiar  spirit  brain  to  magnetize  the  sub- 
ject sufficiently,"  He  offered  to  show  me  in  the  same 
jnanner  any  friend  of  mine  with  whom  he  could  come 
in  rapport. 

This  proposition  delighted  Morris  and  I,  and  we 
spent  an  agreeable  evening  in  seeing  certain  of  our 
fi'iends  on  earth  thus  revealed. 

Some  w^ere  busy  eating  at  the  time,  the  gounnands  ! 
Others,  more  studious,  were  poring  over  books  and 
papers,  and  one,  w^hose  name  I  shall  not  mention,  was 
reproduced  in  the  very  act  of  making  love ! 

The  dear  old  faces  awakened  such  sad  memories, 
and  the  occupations  in  which  they  were  engaged  were 
in  the  main  so  ludicrous,  that  we  were  held  between 
tears  and  lauo:hter  till  after  midnic-ht.  But  that  is  an 
Irish  bull  —  for  you  must  know  that  we  have  no  night 
in  the  sjiirit  world.  Our  diurnal  revolutions  are  so 
rapid,  and  the  atmosphere  so  magnetically  luminous, 
that  it  is  never  dark  here.  But,  however,  according 
to  earth's  parlance,  it  was  midnight  before  we  got 
through. 

I  will  now  bid  adieu  to  my  friends  and  readers  un- 
til we  meet  again. 


MARGARET   FULLER. 


CITV  OF  SPJRINjG  GARDEN: 

I  AM  at  present  domiciled  witli  my  excellent  friend 
Abraham  Lincoln,  in  the  beantiful  city  of  Spring 
Garden.  This  place  contains  between  sixty  and  sev- 
enty thousand  inhabitants,  a  majority  of  whom  are 
engaged  in  literary  and  artistic  pursuits.  It  might 
vie  with  ancient  Athens  for  the  wealth  of  mind  which 
is  concentrated  within  its  precincts.  It  is  not  com- 
pactly built,  the  city  covering  about  thrice  the  surface 
of  ground  that  would  be  occupied  by  one  on  earth  of 
the  same  number  of  inliabitants.  The  streets  are 
handsome,  the  pavements  l^eing  covered  with  a  gay 
enamel  which  is  formed  by  dampening  a  certain  yel- 
low powder,  which,  wlien  hardened,  sliines  like  amber. 
They  are  laid  out  in  circles,  surrounding  a  large  park 
of  several  acres,  which  forms  the  centre  of  the  city. 
This  park  is  embellished  with  trees  and  flowering 
j)lants  of  every  description,  and  does  not  differ  ma- 
terially from  the  extensive  parks  to  be  found  on 
earth,  except  in  its  management. 

Booths  are  erected  at  the  various  gates,  which  are 

supplied  with  fruits  and  confections  free  to  all  who 

present  a  ticket  to  the   keeper.     These   tickets  are 

(166) 


CITY  OF  SPRING   GAItDEK  107 

furnished  by  the  city  authorities  to  those  who  desire 
them.  This  class  is  composed  chiefly  of  children,  and 
of  grown  persons  who  are  incompetent,  to  supply  by 
their  labor  their  own  wants.  Here  they  can  walk 
through  the  pleasant  grounds,  rock  themselves  in 
swings,  which  are  niunerous,  and,  when  weary  with 
exercise,  their  appetites  stimulated  by  the  refreshing 
air,  which  circulates  throuo-h  its  hills  and  dales  as 
fi'eely  as  in  the  open  country,  they  can  apply  for  re- 
freshments at  any  one  of  the  l')Ootlis  or  tables  within 
the  park.  A  very  delicious  drink  manufactured  from 
the  exudence  of  a  flower  not  kno\vii  on  earth  mav 
here  be  procured.  The  grounds  are  provided  with 
various  other  apparatus  for  amusement  and  pleasure, 
among  which  are  elegantly-formed  sleds  on  galvanic 
runners,  M'hich  glide  over  the  ground  vv'itli  sjviftuess 
most  exhilaratino;  to  the  senses.  Air  carriao-es  are 
also  furnished,  aud,  in  short,  nothing  is  wanting  for 
the  pleasure  and  entertainment  of  the  visitors  who 
throng  daily  the  extensive  avenues. 

Fomiing  an  outer  circle  to  the  park  is  the  main 
thoroughfare  of  the  city.  The  streets,  as  1  have  said, 
are  laid  out  in  graduated  circles  which  increase  in 
circumference  as  they  recede  from  the  centre.  The 
outermost  circle  is  bordered  by  trees,  which  form  a 
natural  wall.  This  city  might  be  called  the  circle  of 
palaces,  from  the  numerous  magnificent  edifices  which 
adorn  it  at  every  point. 

The  buildings  are  of  a  light,  graceful  style  of  archi- 
tecture, adapted  to  the  climate  and  the  out-door  life 
which  the  people  generally  lead. 

The  street  facing  the  park  is  devoted  to  the  display 


1G8  MARGAnET  FULLER 

of  commodities  and  creations  of  the  spirit  world  and 
its  inlial)itants. 

In  this  section  are  exposed  to  view  beantiful  fabrics, 
finer  than  the  web  of  a  spider,  glistening  like  threads 
of  sunbeam  and  ornamented  with  most  exquisite 
floral  desi<2:ns  taken  from  nature.  Some  of  these 
fabrics  cmblemize  the  blue  heaven  glittering  with 
silver  stars ;  others  the  clouds,  with  sunlight  shim- 
merino;  throuo-h  them. 

Some  have  shadowy  designs  of  birds  and  curious 
animals  strown  over  a  ground  of  amber  or  violet. 
These  beautiful  de\dces  are  photographed  on  the  ma- 
terial ;  or,  as  the  transceudentalist  would  say,  they  are 
projected  there  by  the  will. 

Electricity  with  ns  is  so  potent  an  agent  that  it  is 
used  for  this  purpose,  transferring  the  image  and 
stamping  it  there. 

These  fabrics  are  more  delicate  and  gossamer-like 
than  any  with  which  you  are  familiar  on  earth. 

Exquisite  materials  are  not  only  indulged  in  by 
ladies,  but  male  angels  robe  themselves  in  attire  more 
fanciful  and  gorgeous  than  they  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  wear  in  their  first  life  ;  except,  indeed,  tlie 
Orientals,  who  more  nearly  approach  us  Celestials  in 
that  particular. 

I  will  state  for  the  benefit  of  ladies  that  we  have 
no  millinery  establishments,  as  the  females  wear 
simply  tlieir  own  beantiful  hair,  which  they  adorn 
with  flowers  and  a  peculiar  lace,  as  thin  as  a  breath. 
The  hair,  owing  to  electrical  conditions,  is  usually 
abundant  and  of  beautiful  texture,  fotming  the  chief 
ornament  of  the  head. 


CITY  OF  SPniNO   GABDEF.  1G9 

On  the  street  I  have  described  are  also  many 
studios  for  artists.  These  attelliers  are  very  orna- 
mental in  appearance,  being  placed  in  the  centre  of 
a  large  com-t.  They  are  of  various  fanciful  shapes, 
according  to  the  design  of  the  artist,  generally  open 
on  the  sides,  with  a  dome  supported  by  pillars,  and 
resembling  in  form  an  ancient  temple.  Within,  they 
are  hung  with  rich  draperies,  which  are  adjusted  at 
pleasure.  The  open  dome  admits  the  light  and  may 
be  covered  by  a  screen  when  necessary. 

These  studios  are  all  on  the  ground  floor,  and 
usually  with  airy  reception  rooms  attached,  opening 
upon  a  court  gay  with  flowers,  birds,  and  fountains, 
making  it  a  pleasant  retreat  for  the  artist  and  his 

friends.     As  my  friend  H gaily  suggests,  these 

accessible  studios  compensate  the  artist  for  the  attics 
w^hich  he  occupied  on  earth. 

The  art  of  painting  is  here  carried  to  greater  per- 
fection than  it  ever  has  been  on  earth. 

As  the  development  of  the  intellect  in  the  material 
world  depends  upon  the  subser\dence  of  matter  to 
mind,  so  in  the  spirit  world,  the  same  principle  is  the 
great  motor  power ;  for  there  we  have  matter  (that 
is,  spirit  matter),  and  this  we  work  into  forms  of 
beauty  as  we  desire. 

Speaking  of  art,  I  must  digress  to  allude  to  \h.Qfete 
which  we  held  in  our  park  in  honor  of  three  quite 
eminent  artists,  who  have  recently  arrived  in  the 
spirit  world  and  taken  up  their  abode  in  this  city. 

As  they  were  all  new-comers,  and  but  slightly  ac- 
quainted with  our  manners  and  customs,  we  gave  this 
celebration  to  surprise  them,  and  also  as  a  token  of 
15 


170  MARGARET  FULLER. 

our  appreciation  of  their  efforts  to  spiritualize  human- 
ity ;  for  art  we  regard  as  on&  of  our  most  spiritual- 
iziiior  ao;eiicies. 

In  the  centre  of  the  park,  I  had  forgotten  to  state, 
we  have  a  temple  erected,  somewhat  resembling 
those  of  ancient  Greece,  and  which  is  for  the  use  of 
orators  and  public  singers.  This  temple  was  beauti- 
fully decorated  with  garlands  and  paintings  by  spirit 
artists.  Within  it  were  seated  the  visitors  and  a  few 
friends,  and  without  were  stationed  musicians,  with 
curious  instruments  of  melody,  such  as  are  unknown 
to  earth. 

Various  ingenious  machines  for  locomotion  and 
amusement  attracted  general  attention.  Another 
source  of  interest  were  the  gi'aceful  and  picturesque 
groups  of  children  moving  in  the  air.  At  intervals, 
one  of  the  most  fascinating  of  their  number  would 
descend  with  offerings  of  fruits  and  flowers  for  our 
guests.  The  amazement  expressed  by  our  visitors, 
as  these  lovely  children  would  suddenly  sweep  down 
through  the  air  like  graceful  birds  of  radiant  plum- 
age was  delio-litful  for  us  older  inhabitants  to  wit- 
ness. 

This  city  contains  several  institutions  of  learning 
which  are  accessible  to  all ;  not  only  those  can  become 
inliabitants  of  this  city  who  have  a  taste  for  tlie 
beauties  and  refinements  of  life,  but  needy  aspirants 
from  earth  may  be  introduced  by  them  into  tliese 
establishments. 

Previous  to  entering  the  Spirit  world  I  had  sup- 
posed everything  here  would  be  free,  but  I  have 
found  here,  as  on  earth,  that  nothing  can  ]3e  attained 


CITY  OE  SPBING   G.UWEK  171 

but  by  exertion,  and  that  the  great  diversity  of  talent 
and  of  gifts  necessarily  enforces  a  system  of  ex- 
change. 

All  men  are  not  alike  inventive  in  the  spirit  world. 
The  inventor,  by  his  fertile  brain,  constructs  an  article 
which  the  majority  desire  to  possess,  and  for  that 
article  they  give  him  an  equivalent.  It  may  be  a 
picture  or  it  may  be  a  song. 

Here  the  artisan  is  not  hampered  as  on  earth  ;  his 
time  —  the  mere  time  employed  in  mechanical  labor  — 
is  of  short  duration.  Our  facilities  for  creating  are  so 
immensely  superior  to  those  of  earth  that  but  a  brief 
period  is  required  for  producing  a  result.  The  re- 
maining time  is  devoted  mainly  to  the  development 
of  the  mind,  to  amusement,  and  to  scientific  research. 

I  stated  in  the  beginning  of  my  letter  that  I  was 
A-isiting  the  home  of  Abraham  Lincoln.  lie  is  re- 
siding here  with  some  members  of  his  family,  and 
appears  very  happy  and  contented.  The  son  for 
whose  loss  he  grieved  amid  the  honors  of  the  Wliite 
.House,  is  now  his  friend  and  companion. 

Matters  of  state,  as  I  learn  from  conversation  with 
him,  occupy  his  mind  but  little ;  but  he  is  deeply 
interested  in  humanity,  and  is  anxious  to  elevate  and 
harmonize  the  whole  hiiman  family. 

His  influence  for  good  is  powerful,  and  he  exerts  it 
constantly. 

Theodore  Parker  and  Hawthorne  both  reside  in 
this  city.  Parker,  as  I  have  been  told,  when  he  first 
came  here,  decided  to  devote  himself  to  the  cultiva- 
tion of  land ;  but  he  has  drifted  again  into  the  ros- 
trum, and  twice  a  week  you  may  see  the  fair  maidens 


172  MAEOARET  FULLER. 

and  gallant  swains  of  Spring  Garden  wending  their 
w^ay  to  his  beautifnl  little  home  and  garden  in  the 
subnrbs,  where,  amid  the  flowers,  he  descants  to  them, 
in  his  eloquent  way,  on  life  and  the  attributes  of  the 
human  soul,  and  also  upon  his  earth  experiences. 

So  you  perceive  he  exemplifies  by  his  own  actions 
the  wise  saying, "  Once  a  prophet,  always  a  prophet." 
His  original  mind  cannot  keep  silent,  and  his  thoughts 
find  readiest  utterance  in  speech. 

Hawthorne  is  living  here  with  his  beautiful  daugh- 
ter, who  devotes  her  attention  to  art. 

His  mind  is  as  active  as  ever.  He  informs  me  that 
many  of  the  mysteries  that  seemed  inexplicable  to 
him  while  on  earth  are  now  cleared  up. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  noble  buildings  of  this  city, 
surrounded  by  spacious  gardens  and  beautified  by 
trees  and  flowers,  fountains  and  singing  birds ;  but  I 
have  not  alluded  to  the  way  in  which  property  is 
held,  and  the  reader  will  naturally  inquire  if  these 
handsome  dwellings  are  owned  by  their  occupants. 

They  are  not,  but  are  simply  loaned  to  them. 
Spirits  congenial  to  those  at  present  residing  here 
lived  in  them  ao-es  ao-one. 

It  is  true,  each  individual  taste  may  alter  and  em- 
bellish the  buildings  and  surroundings,  but  these 
improvements  belong  to  the  city  and  not  to  the  indi- 
viduals. The  titles  are  vested  in  the  community, 
and  its  members  can  vote,  as  in  the  case  of  Abra- 
ham Lincoln,  in  reference  to  any  individual  coming 
amonsr  them. 

There  arc  three  daily  pa})ers  issued  in  the  city,  and 
only  three.     One  is  especially  devoted  to  reporting 


CITY  OF  BPRINO   GARDEN.  173 

news  from  earth,  —  revolutions  tliat  transpire,  changes 
in  state  and  national  politics,  recent  accidents  which 
have  thrown  individuals  suddenly  into  the  spirit 
world,  and  to  recording  the  names,  as  far  as  possihle, 
of  persons  who  have  deceased  from  earth. 

Disasters  that  occur  on  sea  and  land  are  imme- 
diately telegraphed  to  the  newspapers  in  Spring  Gar- 
den and  published  for  the  use  of  the  community. 

It  may  be  interesting  to  the  curious  to  know  tliat 
in  cases  like  the  sinking  of  a  vessel,  where  fifty  or  a 
hundred  individuals  are  suddenly  ushered  into  the 
spirit  world,  delegates  are  sent  out  from  this  and 
other  cities  to  meet  the  sufferers  and  offer  them  the 
hospitalities  of  the  city,  in  accordance  with  their  in- 
dividual merits  and  degrees  of  development. 

Our  method  of  printing  newspapers  differs  ma- 
terially from  that  in  vogue  on  earth. 

Our  papers  might  be  termed  photo-telegrams.  A 
much  less  space  is  occupied  by  a  communication  of 
a  given  length  than  the  same  would  require  in  your 
j)apers.  "We  have  a  system  of  short-hand,  understood 
by  all,  similar  to  that  used  by  your  telegraphic  op- 
erator. 

We  have  various  places  of  public  amusement,  two 
fine  theatres  which  are  devoted  to  dramas  originat- 
ing with  the  inhabitants  of  our  world,  and  another 
appropriated  to  the  representation  of  dramas  familiar 
to  earth.  Our  places  of  amusement  are  of  large  ca- 
pacity, hence  but  few  are  needed  ;  and  the  people  of 
this  city  being  congenial  in  their  natures,  as  many 
as  possible  like  to  assemble  in  one  place. 

The  several  actors  who  have  been  famed  on  earth 
15* 


174  MAIiGARET  FULLER 

appear  at  the  theatres  in  Spring  Garden.  Garrick, 
Kean,  Kemble,  Booth,  A^andenhoff,  Cooke,  Mac- 
ready,  Itachel,  and  Mrs.  Siddons,  visit  us  from  time 
to  time. 

Among  our  distinguished  actore  are  many  wlio  on 
earth  were  clergymen,  politicians,  and  of  other  occu- 
pations.* 

*  I  am  told  that  the  Rev.  Newland  Maffit  is  at  present  a  dis- 
tinguislied  actor  in  the  spirit  world.  Ed. 


GILBERT   STUART. 


ART   CONVERSATION. 


People  are  fools  in  religion,  and  worship  as  divine 
the  most  stupid  monstrosities  ever  conceived  of ! 
Only  tell  tlie  masses  that  St.  Luke,  St.  John,  or  Mary 
Magdalen  M'as  the  author  of  some  absurdity,  which, 
if  you  or  I  had  originated,  they  would  scoff  at,  and 
they  will  clasp  their  liands  in  mute  admiration  over 
that  miracle  of  art ! 

So  it  seems  to  me  to  be  with  Spiritualists.  Draw- 
ings devoid  of  taste,  hard,  and  out  of  proportion,  are 
received  by  them  with  acclamations  of  joy,  and 
credited,  if  they  are  figures,  to  Raphael,  and  if  land- 
scapes, to  Claude  Lorraine  or  some  other  great  master 
of  art. 

Now  I,  for  one,  wish  people  would  use  their  brains, 
and  not  be  so  easily  gulled. 

It  is  truly  wondei'f  ul  that  a  spirit  can  make  a  per- 
son draw  a  straight  line  who  never  could  draw  any 
but  a  crooked  one.  It  partakes  something  of  the 
miraculous,  I  admit ;  and  that  spirits  should  produce 
likenesses,  and  representations  of  flowers,  scrolls, 
and  ornamental  designs,  and  mieartldy  landscapes, 
through  mediums  whose  powers  of  representation  and 
artistic  talents  have  never  been  developed,  is  indeed 

marvellous !  but  tliat  these  drawings  should  be  called 

(175) 


17G  GILBERT  STUART. 

works  of  art,  aud  looked  upon  as  the  genuine  offspring 
of  those  immortal  painters,  is  ridiculous,  and  a  tiling 
to  be  deprecated  by  every  intelligent  spirit  and  Spirit- 
ualist, cither  here  or  in  any  other  world  ! 

Why,  God  Almighty  himself  could  not  take  a 
raw,  unschooled,  undisciplined  hand,  and  produce  a 
^^•ork  of  art ! 

If  a  medium  is  content  with  what  he  has  done,  if 
he  does  not  comprehend  the  faults  of  his  work,  if  his 
eye  and  brain  are  not  educated  artistically,  —  then 
he  must  stand  like  a  machine  working  in  a  groove. 

Neither  Phidias  nor  any  of  his  descendants  could 
inspire  a  high  j)r()duction  through  such  means  ! 

ISTow  I  do  wish  that  educated  artists  would  seek  to 
be  controlled  by  us  spirits;  or  that  those  mediums 
whom  we  do  influence  would  go  to  school,  and  submit 
to  the  drudgery  that  is  necessary  to  give  them  skill 
in  dcsicrn  and  execution. 

Then  could  we  hope  to  represent  something  of  the 
progress  of  art  in  the  spirit  world ;  ajid  would  be 
enal)led  to  depict  marvels  of  landscapes,  and  the 
seraphic  beauty  of  the  hmnan  face  with  its  grace  and 
perfection  of  form,  as  it  meets  us  in  this  artistic  land. 

You  ask  if  we  have  galleries  of  art  here.  I  should 
think  so:  art-love  is  immortal!  You  do  not  suppose 
that  Benjamin  AVest,  Washington  Allston,  Ilem-y 
Inman,  Copely,  Stuart,  and  we  Americans  who  loved 
our  art,  would  be  satisfied  with  laying  down  the  brush, 
and  would  have  cfnitcnted  ourselves  with  siuiriiig  and 
playing  on  cymbals  constantly  for  the  hundred  years 
or  so  that  we've  been  here?  Now,  where  there  is  a 
will  there  is  a  way,  and  having  tlie  will,  we  have 


~    ART  CONVERSATION.  177 

found  the  way  to  exercise  the  genius  which  God 
gave  ns. 

Speaking  of  music,  the  gift  is  cultivated  here  to 
an  extent  that  would  set  the  dilettanti  of  earth  wild 
Tvith  ecstacy ! 

Jfusic,  Poetry^  Art.,  Oratory.,  and  Scientific  lie- 
search,  form  the  principal  occupations  of  the  beings  in 
this  immortal  world  of  ours,  and  language  is  incapable 
of  conveying  an  idea  of  the  perfection  which  our 
noble  and  glorious  faculties  have  attained. 

Art  is  about  to  undergo  a  revolution.  At  present 
too  much  attention  is  given  to  the  literal  render- 
ing of  a  fact,  and  imagination,  which  is  merely  a 
faculty  for  reaching  the  immaterial,  is  checked ;  but 
ere  long  painters  will  turn  their  attention  to  represent- 
ing scenes  in  spirit  life,  and  the  inspiration  which 
attended  the  old  masters  when  they  gave  wings  to 
their  fancy  and  cut  loose  from  identical  imitation, 
will  return. 

Let  the  camera  and  the  photograph  reproduce  the 
exact  outline  and  minutise,  but  let  the  artist  paint 
with  the  pencil  of  imagination  and  inspiration !  Only 
permit  imagination  to  have  root  in  the  material 
world.  As  no  man  can  become  a  o-ood  ano-el  who  has 
not  developed  his  physical  natiu'e  in  harmony  with 
his  spiritual,  so  neither  painter  nor  medium  can  rep- 
resent the  artistic  beauties  of  the  natural  world,  nor 
of  the  spirit  world,  unless  he  has  had  a  good  physical 
training.  It  is  only  through  the  physical  that  the 
imagination  can  express  itself  with  beauty  and  cor- 
rectness. Truth  is  beauty,  and  is  always  proportionate ; 
the  light  equalizing  the  dark,  precisely  as  in  the  per- 


178  GILBERT  STUART. 

fectioii  of  art  a  mass  of  sliadow  is  balanced  by  a  pro- 
portion of  light. 

One  of  the  most  agreeable  places  of  res  orthere- 
abouts  is  the  artists'  rendezvous  —  a  building  larger 
than  St.  Peter's  at  Rome,  magnificent  in  structure, 
and  filled  M'ith  wonderful  paintings. 

Here  artists  and  authors  of  all  nations  are  to  be 
found.  You  can  step  in  any  morning  and  have  a 
chat  with  Lawrence,  Reynolds,  Lessing,  Delaroche 
Ilazlitt,  Coleridge,  Charles  Lamb,  Beethoven,  Men- 
delssohn, Rossini,  Willis,  Irving,  Anthon,  Sigourney, 
Osgood,  Booth,  Kenible,  Kean,  Cooper,  Vandenhoff, 
Palmerston,  Pitt,  O'Connel,  Lamartine,  I^apoleon, 
Margaret  Fuller,  Charlotte  Bronte,  Lady  Blessington, 
and  others  of  note,  who  have  made  themselves  illus- 
trious durinfic  the  eighteenth  and  idneteenth  centuries. 
People  of  congenial  tastes  and  aspirations  can  readily 
obtain  admittance,  and  all  freely  engage  in  conver- 
sation on  topics  connected  with  art  and  literature. 

A  large  garden  is  attached  to  the  building,  filled 
with  every  manner  of  fruit-tree,  and  is  accessible  to 
all ;  any  poor  devil  of  an  artist  can  go  there  and  some 
bewitching  Ilouri  will  present  him  with  all  the  de- 
licious condiments  which  his  taste  or  fancy  can 
demand. 

In  these  matters  the  inhabitants  of  earth  need  to 
take  a  lesson  from  us. 

I  prophesy  that  America  will  be  a  pioneer  in 
these  reformations,  and  will,  in  some  Central  Pari-:, 
erect  a  building  similar  to  this,  where  aspiring  artists 
may  receive  food  for  the  soul  and  the  body,  and  where 
artistic  minds  can  meet  and  interchange  ideas. 


EDWARD  EVERETT. 


GOVERNMENT. 

The  Christianized  world  supposes  that  the  form  of 
government  now  existing  in  the  heavenly  system  is 
that  of  a  monarchy ;  that  God  is  the  supreme  ruler 
of  the  whole  universe,  embracing  not  only  the  little 
planet  Earth,  but  the  countless  starry  worlds  and  in- 
visible systems  that  roll  through  space.  But  more 
directly  in  its  imagination  does  it  place  him  as  the 
sole  monarch  and  kingly  ruler  of  the  spirit  world. 
It  seats  him  in  fancy  upon  a  gorgeous  throne,  mate- 
rial in  every  aspect  of  its  magnificence  ;  a  throne  of 
gold  and  jewels,  as  described  by  that  Miltonic  poet, 
St.  John,  in  his  "  Revelations." 

This  is  the  prevailing  faith  of  Christendom ;  a  faith 
which  to  the  majority  seems  knowledge  as  positive  as 
the  fact  that  Victoria  rules  the  British  people,  and 
sits  upon  the  English  throne. 

Yet  this  is  the  conception  of  a  people  fond  of  bar- 
baric pomp  and  splendor.  A  conception  unsupported 
by  reason  and  at  A-ariance  with  fact. 

Nearer  to  the  truth  was  the  old  Greek  nation ;  a 
nation  which  embodied  the  intellect,  the  vv'isdom,  and 
the  refinement  of  the  present  age. 

That  nation,  in  its  belief  in  the  government  of  the 
spiritual  universe,  was  wholly  Polytheistic,  believing 

(179) 


180  EDWARD  EVERETT. 

ill  many  g^ods,  iiiid,  as  I  liave  said,  approached  nearer 
the  idea  of  tlie  form  of  government  as  existing  in  the 
spirit  MT>i'hl,  for  it  is  a  Rej^ublic  of  Gods, 

It  is  a  law  of  the  nni  verse  that  all  vast  bodies 
must  be  divided  and  subdi\ided  into  smaller  ones. 
Every  system  is  a  constellation  and  every  constella- 
tion is  a  congeries. 

Li  accordance  with  this  law,  the  universal  world 
of  spirit  is  broken  up,  is  divided  and  subdivided. 

In  these  divisions  and  subdivisions  forms  of  gov- 
ernment ensue,  differing  slightly  one  from  another, 
according  to  the  progressive  development  of  the  peo- 
ple ;  and  an  unlimited,  monarchy  is  not  known  iu  the 
spirit  world. 

There  are  some  clinging  to  their  old  habits,  associa- 
tions, and  education,  who  would  fain  raise  the  repre- 
sentatives of  royalty  on  earth  to  the  same  positions  in 
the  spirit  Avorld  when  they  become  residents  there. 
]>ut  the  effort,  when  made,  cannot  be  sustained.  The 
one-man  power  is  incompatible  with  spiritual  laws 
and  spiritual  justice. 

In  a  world  where  the  external  trappings  are  torn 
away  and  the  internal  nature  of  man  is  exposed  to 
observation,  the  prerogatives  of  earthly  kings  have 
but  little  power. 

The  republican  form  of  govermnent  is  destined  to 
overthrow  all  the  monarchies  of  earth.  As  the  woi-ld 
progresses  and  knowledge  becomes  universal,  indi- 
\iduals  M-ill  be  able  to  govern  themselves. 

It  has  been  only  through  ignorance  and  supersti- 
tion, and  the  limited  knowledge  of  the  masses,  that 
the  kings  and  emperors  of  earth  have  been  enabled 


GOVERNME^TT.  181 

to  sway  their  jewelled  sceptres  over  tlic  necks  of  tlie 
people.  But  their  reign  is  drawing  to  a  close ;  their 
glories  have  culminated ;  and  tlie  day  is  rapidly  ap- 
proaching when  earth  will  be  governed  even  as  the 
heavens  above  are  governed.  As  in  the  world  of 
natnre,  "  the  same  chance  happens  alike  to  all,"  and 
every  child  in  time  may  become  a  man  and  every  infant 
a  father,  and  the  experience  of  one  becomes  the  experi- 
ence of  all,  so  in  the  government  of  the  spirit  world, 
every  man  can  rise  and  become  for  a  space  of  time 
the  patriarchal  dictator  of  a  republic. 

The  prevailing  form  of  our  republic  differs  from 
that  of  the  American  republic  in  many  particulars. 
Our  term  of  office  is  of  shorter  duration  than  with. 
you.  Our  directors  while  in  office  make  fi-iendly 
excursions  to  other  republics.  Matters  of  state  with 
\is  are  not  so  weighty  or  complicated  as  witli  you, 
nor  are  encroachments  and  reprisals  so  common, 
"We  are  not  compelled  to  sustain  such  vast  armies 
and  navies,  involving  tlie  necessity  of  directing  and 
superintending  them. 

As  a  rule,  people  who  have  entered  the  second 
stage  of  existence  desire  a  change.  They  desire  to 
live  with  more  simplicity  and  freedom,  and  are  eager 
to  begin  their  new  life  with '  nobler  aspirations. 
Therefore,  they  assimilate  with  comparative  ease 
with  our  form  of  government. 

Our  directors  are  our  fathers.  The  nearest  ap- 
proach to  our  system  is  the  government  of  the 
Mormons  in  Utah.  Pardon  me,  if,  in  ]iiaking  this 
statement,  I  offend  any  delicate  sensibility.  I  allude 
not  to  their  creed,  but  to  their  mode  of  public  ad- 
ministration, 16 


182  EDWARD   EVERETT. 

As  I  liave  stated,  tlic  iTiliabitaiits  of  the  spirit 
world  are  divided  and  subdivided  into  associations, 
or  bodies,  which  in  your  workl  would  be  termed  na- 
tions and  states.  For  example,  the  nation  to  which  I 
belong  is  represented  by  the  American  people.  The 
nationalities  of  earth  present  different  traits  and  char- 
acteristics which  set  them  apart,  though  in  a  general 
aspect  they  present  one  whole.  Even  as  in  the  orni- 
thological world  different  species  of  birds  repre- 
sent the  feathered  race,  and  though  differing  in 
many  particulars  and  forming  separate  varieties,  yet 
assimilate  as  a  whole,  so  nations  migrating  to  the 
spirit  world  fonn  separate  nationalities.  And,  as  I 
have  stated,  some  of  them,  educated  in  the  belief  of 
the  divine  right  of  kings,  choose  a  form  of  rule  nearer 
approaching  the  monarchial  than  the  republican. 
Among  such  often  arises  a  Napoleon,  a  man  of  pow- 
erful intellect,  a  mind  to  grasp  all  circumstances, 
and  a  will  to  direct,  who  succeeds  in  placing  him- 
self in  a  position  which  he  retains  for  years. 

But  as  the  hereditary  right  of  kings  cannot  exist 
in  the  spirit  world,  the  emperor  or  dictator  is  chosen 
by  the  people,  as  was  the  custom  of  the  ancient  Eo- 
mans. 

Intercourse  of  nations  with  us  is  not  bounded  by 
the  obstacles  that  exist  on  earth.  Prominent  ideas 
prevailing  among  the  most  intelligent  masses  of  spir- 
its become  the  views  of  the  whole.  This  your  own 
wnrld  exemplifies.  As  the  means  of  communication 
become  more  facile,  as  the  various  arts  of  locomo- 
tion obliterate  distance,  the  remote  and  barbarous 
nations,  brought  into  proximity   with  the  civilized. 


GOVERNMENT.  183 

assume  their  habits,  adopt  their  modes  of  action,  and 
follow  their  form  of  government. 

I  can  safely  predict  for  you  a  similar  result.  In 
the  spirit  world  those  nations  once  most  tenacious 
of  kingly  rights  and  of  the  majesty  of  the  throne,  lay 
quietly  down  their  regal  crowns,  and  assume  the  un- 
ostentatious cap  of  the  republic.  So  will  all  the 
nations  of  earth  follow  their  spiritual  leaders  and 
hm-1  out  fi-om  the  round  globe  the  crumbling  thrones 
and  sceptres  of  kings  and  emperors  and  the  tottering 
papal  chair  of  Eome,  down,  down,  into  the  vast 
tomb  of  antiquity !  --^ 


PREDERIKA  BREMER. 


FLIGHT  TO  MY  STARRY  HOME. 

I  WAS  in  Stockholm  wlien  the  ambassador,  who  is 
sent  by  the  all-wise  Father  to  pilot  his  children  to  the 
unknown  land  of  roses,  called  for  me,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  part  with  the  body  which,  though  homely 
and  unattractive,  like  the  dear,  good  "  family  roof,"  * 
had  I'endered  me  service  in  many  a  stormy  day. 

The  feeling  I  experienced  in  taking  my  departure 
M'as  like  that  of  going  out  into  a  pitiless  storm,  and 
it  was  followed  by  an  intense  prickling  sensation, 
similar  to  that  familiarly  known  as  the  "  foot  asleep." 
This,  I  afterwards  understood,  was  occasioned  by  the 
electrical  cin-i-ent  passing  through  my  spirit  as  it 
assumed  shape  upon  emerging  from  its  old  frame. 

Some  twenty  minutes  perhaps  elapsed  after  the 
breath  leaving  tlie  l^ody  before  I  became  p(;rfectly 
conscious  in  my  new  form.  Upon  recovering  the 
use  of  my  senses,  my  wliole  attention  was  drawn 
from  myself  to  the  friends  who  had  gatliered  in  the 
room  which  had  so  recently  been  my  sick  chamber. 

As  I  watched  them  combine  the  hair  and  attirinsr 
the  white,  stiff  figure  that  lay  so  solemnly  stretched 
upon  the   couch,  my  emotions   were   indescribable. 

*  Swedish  term  for  umbrella. 

(184) 


FLIQUT  TO  MY  STAIIRY  HOME.  185 

I  endeavored  to  s})eak,  but  my  voice  gave  l)ut  a  faint 
sonnd,  which  they  evidently  did  not  licar  — as  a  spirit, 
I  attracted  no  attention.  This  caused  me  deep  grief, 
for  I  desired  them  all  to  see  me  still  living. 

My  sad  emotions  were  presently  dispelled  by  the 
sound  of  most  mellifluous  music  bursting  npon  my 
senses ;  and  as  I  turned  my  eyes  to  discover  the 
source  from  whence  it  proceeded,  I  beheld,  resur- 
rected before  me,  a  group  of  dear  old  friends,  whose 
bodies  were  already  dust  and  ashes  in  the  Swedish 
grave-yards,  and  in  the  cemeteries  of  the  old  and 
new  worlds.  A  hearty  burst  of  joy  escaped  from  my 
lips  as  I  recognized  them.  "VVe  laughed,  cried,  shook 
hands,  and  kissed  first  on  one  cheek  and  then  on  the 
other,  \ni\\  the  sanie  enthnsiasm  and  naturalness  we 
would  have  shown  had  we  been  inhabitants  of  dear 
old  mother  Earth. 

"  Come,  Frederika !  Dear  Frederika !  don't  stay 
gazing  on  that  old  body  !  Leave  friends  who  cannot 
talk  with  you  and  come  witli  us ! "  they  clamored 
on  all  sides.  Their  voices  were  like  a  full  orchestra ; 
besides,  some  had  instrimients  of  mijsic,  upon  which 
they  improvised  little  songs  to  my  honor.  I  was 
fairly  bewildered.  Presently  they  formed  a  circle 
about  me  and  commenced  whirling  rapidly  around 
and  around.  I  felt  as  in  a  hammock  swayed  by  the 
wind ;  a  dreamy  lethargy  stole  over  me,  and  I  gradu- 
ally became  unconscious ;  and  thus,  I  am  told,  they 
bore  me  through  the  earth's  atmospliere,  out  in  the 
stellar  spaces,  to  a  new  world  —  a  world  not  of  the 
earth,  earthy,  but  the  New  Jerusalem  which  I  had  so 
often  pictured  to  my  fancy. 
16* 


186  FREDEltlKA  BUEMEIl 

A  soft,  pleasant  breeze  bluwing  directly  upon  my 
face,  restored  me  to  consciousness.  I  opened  my 
eyes,  and,  lo!  I  was  reclining  upon  a  divan  in  a 
great  pavilion.  The  friends  whom  I  had  previously 
recognized  were  around  me,  some  making  magnetic 
passes  over  me,  others  engaged  in  prepai-ations  for 
my  comfort.  Upon  seeing  me  awaken,  several 
friends  approached  with  flowers  and  fruits.  Tlie 
term  ''  flowers,"  though  a  beautiful  appellation,  gives 
but  a  faint  idea  of  these  marvcllons  creations. 

My  attention  was  particularly  attracted  to  one 
whose  corolla  was  of  deep  violet  striped  with  gold, 
having  long  silvery  filaments  spreading  out  from  the 
cup  in  lines  of  light  like  the  luminous  trail  of  a 
comet. 

In  a  state  of  delicious  languor,  I  Avatched  the 
varied  wonders  before  me.  The  pavilion,  which  was 
of  silver  lace  or  filagree  woven  in  the  most  exquisite 
patterns,  M-as  a  hundred  or  more  feet  in  circumfer- 
ence, and  adorned  with  open  arches  and  columns  on 
its  several  sides.  These  columns  and  arches  were  of 
coral  and  gold,  which  contrasted  with  the  silver  net- 
work, and  the  blossoms  and  foliage  of  curious  plants 
and  vines  which  graced  the  interior,  forming  i.lto- 
gether  a  structure  of  singular  elegance  and  beauty. 

Kumberless  forms  like  the  fal)lcd  peris  and  gods 
of  mythology  glided  in  and  out  of  these  arches,  and 
approached  me  with  offerings  of  welcome.  One 
blooming  Venetian  maiden  presented  me  with  a  crys- 
tal containing  a  golden  li(piid,  which  she  said  was  the 
elixir  of  the  poets  and  psiinters  of  her  nation.  The 
name  she  gave  it  was  "  The  Poet's  Fancy,"  and  she  in- 


FLIGHT  TO  MY  STAIIJIY  HOME.  187 

formed  me  that  it  was  distilled  from  a  plant  which 
fed  upon  or  absorbed  the  emanations  which  the  ac- 
tive mentalities  of  these  poetic  beings  exhaled. 

This  information  was  quite  new  to  me,  and  gave 
me  pleasure,  as  it  accorded  with  mj  ideas  of  corres- 
pondence. So  I  sipped  the  "Poet's  Fancy,"  and 
imagined  that  its  delicious,  aromatic  flavor  vivified 
me  like  rays  of  sunshine.  If,  previously,  I  had  been 
charmed,  I  now  certainly  experienced  a  power  of  en- 
joyment and  quickness  of  perception  tenfold  in- 
creased. 

I  then  inquired  for  Swedenborg,  Spurzheim,  and 
Lavatar.  "  You  will  meet  them  further  on,"  said 
she,  smiling.  "  They  are  not  here."  I  was  so  well 
pleased  with  her  that  I  twined  my  arm  around  her 
fairy-like  form  and  we  glided  away  together.  As  I 
desired  to  obtain  a  peep  at  the  outside  of  the  beau- 
tiful pavilion,  my  companion  led  the  way,  pausing 
here  and  there  to  present  me  to  groups  who  had 
advanced  for  that  purpose.  The  company  I  found 
to  be  composed  of  writers  and  painters,  interspersed 
with  a  few  of  my  own  personal  friends ;  and  I  felt 
gratified  to  find  myself  so  well  received  by  those 
whom  I  had  known  on  earth  as  celebrities. 

"'Tis  strange,"  I  remarked  to  my  companion, 
"that  such  choice  minds  should  all  be  gathered 
together  in  one  place." 

"  They  are  spirits  congenial  to  your  own,"  said  she. 
"  Like  attracts  like,  and  they  have  come  from  their 
respective  homes  in  the  spirit  world  to  welcome  you 
here." 

"  Ah,"  said  I,  "  I  now  begin  to  understand  what 


188  FREDERIKA  BREMER. 

all  tills  fine  company  means!  This  is  my  recep- 
tion." 

As  we  were  leasing  the  pavilion  Ave  were  joined 

by  IIcrrYon ,  the  celebrated  Swedish  natnralist 

who  had  recently  entered  the  spirit  \vorld.  lie  con- 
gratnlated  me  npon  my  safe  arrival,  and  kindly  of- 
fered to  act  as  cicerone  and  to  point  out  to  me  the 
marvels  by  which  I  was  surrounded. 

To  my  astonishment,  on  reaching  the  open  air  I 
discovered  that  the  pavilion  was  located  upon  the 
summit  of  a  lofty  mountain.  The  face  of  this  moun- 
tain was  of  many  colors  and  glistened  like  precious 
stones.  My  friend  led  me  to  the  point  of  a  precipice 
on  one  side  and  bade  me  look  down.  This  I  did, 
and  beheld  phosphorescent  rays  issuing  from  the 
sides. 

"  What  wonder  is  this  ? "  I  asked.  lie  informed 
me  the  mountain  was  magnetic  in  its  charactei',  and 
that  it  was,  so  to  speak,  tlie  first  station  from  earth, 
and  a  point  easily  attained  by  a  spirit  newly  arriving 
from  that  planet.  lie  said  I  was  not  permanently  to 
remain  ujxjn  the  mountain,  but  was  placed  there 
until  1  should  become  acclimated  to  the  spirit  atmo- 
sphere, and  to  acquire  strength  before  travelling  to 
that  portion  of  the  sj)irit  land  which  would  form  my 
permanent  abode. 

The  apex  of  the  mountain  formed  a  flat  plain 
about  two  miles  in  extent.  We  walked  onward  some 
distance,  when  he  pointed  out  to  me  another  pavilion, 
.much  larger  than  the  one  to  which  I  had  been  borne. 
The  exterior  form  of  each  was  alike,  and  resembled 
a  Turkish   mosque ;    the   crown-like   canopy  which 


FLIGHT  TO  MY  STARRY  HOME.  189 

formed  the  top  being  sni-moiTiited  by  a  ball  so  daz- 
zling in  brightness  that  I  was  obliged  to  turn  my 
gaze  from  it.  This  ball  was  composed  of  an  electric 
combination,  which  shed  its  rays  far  through  space. 
"  And,"  said  the  good  Ilerr  Yon ,  '"  as  the  pavil- 
ion is  used  for  the  reception  of  the  friendless  and  the 
homeless,  they  are  attracted  and  guided  to  it  by  its 
coruscations." 

"We  proceeded  some  steps  further,  and  he  showed 
me  how  the  mountain,  which  is  steep  and  precipitous 
on  the  northern  exposure,  sloped  into  broken  chains 
and  lower  elevations  on  the  southern ;  and  from  this 
point,  looking  down,  I  beheld  through  the  clear 
atmosphere  a  billowy  landscape,  clothed  with  soft, 
rich  verdure,  more  fresh  and  green  to  the  eye  than 
that  which  covers  dear  mother  Earth. 

"  IIow  wonderful  are  thy  works,  O  God  ! "  I  ex- 
claimed, as  we  retraced  our  steps.  And  I  could  not 
but  reflect  upon  the  singular  trait  exhibited  by  Jesus 
of  fi-equenting  a  high  momitain  to  pray.  Surely, 
altitude  elevates  one  into  the  spiritual  state,  and  no 
doubt  Christ  felt  nearer  to  the  spirit  world  when 
elevated  far  above  Jerusalem,  on  the  mountain-top, 
amid  the  clouds.  Tims,  looking  down  from  the  sub- 
lime heio-ht,  I  realized  for  the  first  time  that  I  too  was 
a  spirit  and  an  inliabitant  of  the  world  in  which 
Jesus  dwelt ! 


LYMAN  BEECIIER 


THE  SABBATH. 


In  the  days  of  my  ministrations  on  earth,  it  was 
pretty  generally  believed  that  the  Sabbath  day  was 
one  of  peculiar  sanctity ;  and  that  the  Creator,  hav- 
ing completed  the  creation  of  the  earth  in  six  days, 
had  rested  upon  the  seventh  from  the  labor  attend- 
ant on  that  work.  But  science,  which  is  ever  at  war 
with  the  Jewish  record,  has  established  the  fact  that 
the  world  was  not  created  in  that  short  space  of 
time. 

The  multiplicity  of  worlds  created  also  disprove 
the  idea  that  the  Creator  could  have  rested  during 
any  set  period  of  time. 

Some  zealous  skeptics,  to  counteract  the  belief  in 
the  sanctity  of  the  Sabbath,  have  asserted  that  mind 
can  never  rest,  and  that  as  God  is  a  spirit,  rest  to 
him  is  imjjossible. 

Even  granting  this  hypothesis,  history  and  research 
have  proven  the  wisdom  and  utility  of  the  Jewish 
Sabbath,  as  established  by  the  great  lawgiver,  Moses. 

The  Jews  at  that   time  were  an  active,  restless, 

laboring     people.       Their    industry    had     enriched 

Egypt,   and   having   escaped    from   her    oppressive 

bondage,  they  were  liable,  in  their  efforts  to  found  a 

nation  of  their  own,  to  carry  their  habits  of  industry 

to  excess. 

190 


THE  SABBAT U.  191 

Probably  tliey  overworked  their  slaves,  their  cattle, 
themselves,  and  the  "stranger  within  their  gates." 
Their  wise  lawgiver,  under  the  direct  influence  of 
spiritual  guides,  promulgated  this  law :  "  Six  days 
shalt  thou  labor  and  do  all  thy  work,  but  the  seventh 
is  the  Sabbath  of  the  Lord ;  in  it  thou  shalt  not  do 
any  work,  thou,  nor  thy  man-servant,  thy  maid-serv- 
ant, thy  cattle,  nor  the  stranger  within  thy  gates." 

And  this  commandment  has  been  handed  down 
from  the  Jewish  to  the  Christian  nations.  "Witli  the 
early  Jews  it  was  a  day  of  recreation,  of  dancing, 
and  of  song.  The  early  Christians  employed  the  day 
at  first  in  social  intercourse,  afterwards  it  became  a 
day  of  sacred  ordinance ;  and,  as  copies  of  tlie  Scrip- 
tm-es  were  rare,  they  met  on  that  day  to  hear  them 
read,  and  in  their  simple  faith  would  select  passages 
and  apply  them  to  their  own  necessities. 

When  the  Christian  religion  invaded  Pagan  coun- 
tries and  became  established,  the  days  whicli  had 
formerly  been  appropriated  to  feasting  and  sacrificing 
to  the  gods  and  goddesses  became  the  fast-days 
of  the  Romish  Church. 

When  Protestantism  arose,  she  swept  off  from  her 
calendar  these  fast-days,  and  returned  to  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  Jemsh  Sabbath. 

Puritanism  followed  and  gave  a  literal  meaning 
to  the  text,  "  Thou  shalt  do  no  work."  Under  her 
reign,  all  labor  was  suspended  on  the  seventh  day. 
A  strict  watch  was  set  upon  the  actions  of  the 
indi\'idual ;  household  duties  were  neglected ;  fires 
were  not  lighted  or  food  cooked.  The  great  world 
of  activity  stood  still. 


192  LYMAN  BEECIIER. 

Eest  so  severe  embittered  men's  judgment,  and 
the  Sabbath  became  a  day  for  prying  into  the 
derelictions  of  each  other.  A  rigid  observance  was 
l)laced  npon  men's  actions,  and  stringent  laws  were 
made  to  pmiish  the  offender  against  this  enforced 
rest. 

So  t}Tannous  and  exacting  did  the  Puritan  observ- 
ers of  the  Sabbath  become,  that  their  rigid  formulas 
created  a  rebellion  in  the  minds  of  the  succeeding 
generation,  and  so  great  has  been  the  reaction,  that 
in  our  day  it  has  become  a  common  assertion  that 
"all  days  are  alike,"  and  the  steam-car  and  the 
horse-car,  the  coach,  and  the  hack,  ply  their  busy 
wheels  through  the  streets  of  our  large  cities,  and  the 
church-goers  travel  thereon  to  their  different  sanctu- 
aries. 

"  All  days  are  alike  to  God,"  says  the  reformer ; 
"  why  should  we  observe  the  Sabbath  more  than  any 
other  day  ? "  I  will  tell  you  why :  a  concentration  of 
the  spiritual  nature  of  men  throughout  Christendom 
necessarily  creates  a  magnetic  atmosphere  through 
which  spiritual  beings  can  approach.  The  sincere 
and  devout  worshippers  in  e-\-ery  land  congregating 
in  churches  upon  one  day,  send  forth  waves  of  mag- 
netic light  which  extend  into  the  world  of  spirits. 
The  music  and  the  prayers  are  borne  upward  on 
this  current,  and  great  batteries  are  thereby  formed 
tliat  cannot  but  affect  the  souls  in  Paradise.  They 
respond  to  the  music  and  the  prayers,  and  worship- 
pers in  the  churches  feel  their  magnetic  influences. 
Those  who  are  sincere  in  tlieir  religious  faith  say 
that  they  feel  "  heaven  opened  to  them."   Even  those 


THE  SABBATH.  193 

who  attend  cliurcli  from  fashion,  or  for  the  pnrposc 
of  meeting  their  friends  and  neighbors,  are  tliere 
bronght  in  contact  with  spiritual  influences  which 
could  reach  them  in  no  other  way. 

The  experience  I  have  gained  since  my  entrance 
into  my  spiritual  home  has  given  me  more  liberal 
ideas  of  the  uses  of  the  Sabbath,  and  taught  me  that 
to  the  working  man  it  is  a  necessary  day  of  recrea- 
tion. But  I  lift  my  voice  against  its  becoming  one 
of  beer-drinking  and  boisterous  sports.  The  work- 
man who  is  confined  to  the  bench  or  the  workshop, 
in  the  midst  of  a  crowded  city,  for  six  days  of  the 
week,  will  certaiidy  be  benefited  by  seeking  the  green 
fields  and  healthful  influences  of  the  country;  but 
on  reaching  that  desirable  Eden,  let  means  be  pro- 
vided for  his  instruction;  so,  while  sitting  under 
the  leaf}^  trees,  his  mind  may  be  benefited,  and  his 
bodily  organism  rested,  rather  than  injured  by  feast- 
ing and  rioting  in  the  public  gardens  and  parks. 

Field  preaching  should  become  a  regular  institu- 
tion of  the  Sabbath ;  and  discourses  instructing  the 
mind  in  morals  and  sciences  should  be  given  in  the 
tent,  or  under  trees,  in  parks  and  woods  set  apart 
for  that  purpose.  Then  would  the  object  of  the 
Sabbath  be  attained.  As  I  have  said,  the  spiritual 
nature  is  more  open  to  the  reception  of  truth  on  that 
day. 

The  state  of  sleepiness,  which  is  a  well-known  at- 
tendant on  the  Sabbath,  is  indicative  of  the  magnetic 
influence  ;  and  those  who  discard  the  day,  and  se- 
cretly pursue  their  active  employments,  would  do 
well  to  heed  the  remarks  I  have  made. 


194  LYMAN  BEECHER. 

Before  I  close,  I  Avibli  to  make  some  observations 
upon  the  present  style  of  preaching  as  compared 
with  the  sermonizing  of  my  day.  When  I  occupied 
the  pnlpit,  the  doctrines  of  election  and  predestina- 
tion were  the  principal  themes  that  engaged  the  at- 
tention of  ministers. 

Free  will  and  coerced  will  were  questions  which 
puzzled  the  theologian.  Looking  upon  the  Bible  as 
an  inspired  book,  the  most  careless  sentence  therein 
expressed  became  a  word  of  weighty  import.  We 
eu2;af;ed  the  minds  of  our  hearers  with  abstract 
questionings  and  reasonings.  But  we  never  could 
make  the  doctrine  of  predestination  accord  with  that 
of  fi*ee  will.  Nor  could  we  clearly  account  for  the 
presence  of  evil,  while  we  believed  the  Creator  to  be 
all  wise,  all  powerful,  and  cognizant  of  the  end  from 
the  beginning.  Yet  these  were  the  topics  which  the 
minister  of  my  day  discussed  and  endeavored  to 
make  clear  to  the  comprehension  of  his  hearers. 
We  did  not  treat  of  every-day  life ;  the  pulpit  we 
considered  too  sacred  for  such  topics.  Religion  with 
the  masses  became  an  abstract  state  of  lioliness.  Men 
assumed  long  faces  and  sober  bearings  upon  the 
seventh  day ;  but  their  every-day  life  was  some- 
thing different,  which  the  minister  and  his  minister- 
ing did  not  reach. 

But  the  pulpits  of  to-day  are  platforms  of  another 
kind.  They  have  altered,  even  as  their  shape  has 
altered.  Their  outward  construction  corresponds  to 
their  teachings.  In  my  day  the  pulpit  was  narrow  and 
straight,  and  was  lifted  liigh  above  the  people.  But 
at  the  present  day  a  step  only  separates  it  from  the 


THE  SABBATH  195 

congregation.  It  is  broad,  low,  and  open.  Tlie 
teachings  received  from  it  correspond  with  its  change 
of  form.  The  ministers  of  to-da}^  are  one  with  their 
flock.  Their  discourses  are  practical,  relating  to 
e very-day  affairs.  They  no  more  discuss  the  ques- 
tions of  Satan,  of  angels,  and  archangels,  nor  arouse 
an  undefined  fear  by  descanting  on  the  mysterious 
prophecies  of  Daniel :  they  talk  to  you  like  human 
beings. 

I  rememl^er  being  somewhat  shocked  while  listen- 
ing to  sermons  preached  by  my  son,  II,  W.  Beecher. 
I  recall  sitting  near  his  pulpit,  and  longing  to  get  up 
and  tell  the  congregation  my  views  of  texts  and  mat- 
ters of  which  he  was  discoursing.  I  thought  then 
it  was  because  the  race  was  going  backward  —  be- 
coming less  intellectual — that  men  should  be  con- 
tent to  listen  to  sermons  that  contained  so  little  the- 
ology. But  experience  in  spirit  life  has  caused  me 
to  change  my  opinion. 

I  now  see  that  Beecher,  Spurgeon,  and  a  vast  host 
of  others,  are  teaching  human  souls  the  great  truths 
which  will  fit  them  for  life  hereafter.  I  have  done 
now  with  endeavoring  to  solve  improbable  problems, 
and  witli  simple  faith  in  man's  efforts  for  his  own 
progression,  I  give  my  testimony  as  to  the  uses  of 
the  Sabbath,  and  the  advantages  of  religion  in  ad- 
vancing their  progress,  and  in  preparing  the  spirit 
for  its  future  home. 


PROFESSOR  GEORGE  BUSH. 


LIFE  AND  MARRIAGE  IN  THE  SPIRIT  WORLD. 

The  two  worlds  —  the  spiritual  and  the  material  — 
are  like  twin  sisters  whom  I  have  seen,  so  similar  that 
their  acquaintances  could  not  distinguish  between 
them,  and  yet  so  dissimilar  that  an  intimate  friend 
would  wonder  why  one  should  ever  be  mistaken  for 
the  other. 

I  propose  to  give  a  short  account  of  the  society 
and  conditions  of  life  in  the  spiritual  spheres. 

The  Swedenborgian  Society  of  which  I  was  a  mem- 
ber while  on  earth,  continues  to  exist  as  a  body  in 
the  spirit  world,  though  Swedenborg,  the  great  seer 
and  founder  of  that  sect,  is  not  a  leader  among  them. 
lie  has  his  country  seat  in  Swedenborgia,  a  beautiful 
and  intellectual  settlement  named  after  him,  wliere 
he  retires  within  himself,  and  directs  his  great  mind 
in  developing  his  science  of  correspondences,  which 
he  proposes  to  arrange  so  systematically  that  it  will 
become  a  part  of  the  teachings  of  earth's  children. 

It  was  never  his  design  to  become  the  leader  of  a 
sect,  but  his  desire  was  simply  to  reveal  like  a  tele- 
scope   that    which    was    unknown.     lie    is    deeply 

interested  in  the  political  condition  of  Sweden,  Nor- 

(196) 


LIFE  AND  MAlilUA  GE  IN  SPIRIT  WORLD.        1 0  7 

way,  and  Germany,  and  exerts  liis  vast  intellect 
towards  emancipating  the  minds  of  those  nations 
from  the  bondage  of  church  and  stkte. 

It  is  curious  to  witness  with  what  fidelity  Sweden- 
borg  described  in  many  instances  the  condition  of 
the  soul  after  deatli ;  and  also  to  perceive  in  other 
instances  how  utterly  he  misinterpreted  the  visions 
presented. 

Such  discrepancies  are  incidental  to  all  clairvoy- 
ant states ;  and  this  is  not  surprising,  for  it  is  inciden- 
tal to  humanity. 

Man  sees  clearly  when  the  prejudices  of  education 
and  the  influence  of  his  loves  do  not  pervert  liis 
vision. 

AVhat  political  economist,  strongly  biased  in  favor 
of  one  mode  of  government,  can  contemplate  dispas- 
sionately an  opposing  form? 

The  theological  belief  which  Swedenboro-  imbibed 
in  his  early  jouth,  tinctured  his  description  of  the 
heavens  and  hells  of  the  spirit  world,  causing  him  to 
represent  the  soul  as  reaching  a  period  in  its  love  of 
evil  when  it  cannot  retrace  its  steps.  The  hells  of 
the  spirit  are  similar  to  the  hells  of  earth,  being  like 
them  the  result  of  the  ignorance  and  perverted  loves 
of  animal  man. 

Wliat  hell  more  fearful  than  the  hell  of  licentious- 
ness ?  Yet  it  is  merely  the  animal  side  of  the  heaven 
of  love. 

Swedenborg  discovered  hells  in  spiritual  existence, 

Mdiere  the  inmates  lived  lives  of  prostitution.     His 

statement  concerning  such  hells  is  true.     Individuals 

who  have  lived  such  lives  upon  earth  cannot  suddeidy 

17* 


198  PROFESSOR  GEORGE  BUSK 

be  transformed.  Their  liabits  become  spiritual  dis- 
eases with  them. 

Kow,  as  to  marriage,  the  mere  form  does  not  make 
the  wife  different  from  the  courtezan,  but  her  love 
exalts  her  above  that  condition.  If  she  be  united 
to  a  man  who  is  repulsive  to  her  nature,  and  yet  sub- 
mits to  his  embraces  for  the  considerations  of  family, 
or  home,  or  public  opinion,  she  is  on  the  same  plane 
watli  the  courtezan. 

It  is  a  proposition  generally  believed,  that  there  is 
a  soul-mate  for  evei'y  human  being,  and  it  is  usually 
supposed  that  in  the  spirit  world  those  mates  are 
found,  and  that  those  imited  there  live  together 
inseparably.  But  as-  there  exists  in  the  spirit  world 
the  same  states,  the  same  variety  of  progressive  de- 
velopment among  men  and  women  as  in  this  world, 
so  unions  are  formed  there  in  Avliich  one  soul  devel- 
ops beyond  the  capacity  of  the  other,  and  in  such 
cases  changes  must  ensue. 

I  will  now  speak  of  marriages  more  in  detail. 

In  the  summer  land  the  union  of  the  man  with  the 
woman  occurs  from  very  similar  causes  to  those 
which  bring  about  like  unions  up(m  earth  —  the  man 
is  drawn  to  the  woman  and  the  M'oman  to  the  man 
through  tlie  operation  of  a  natural  law.  If  instinct 
were  nut  so  impaired  by  the  cultivation  of  the  exter- 
nal faculties,  there  would  arise  but  little  difficulty  — 
on  earth  in  selecting  ])artners  adapted  to  each  other. 
Considerations  of  wealth  and  position  are  permitted 
to  influence  your  selections  rather  than  the  idea  of 
congeniality  and  adaptability. 

In  spirit  life  tliis  method  is  reversed,  and  the  mar- 


LIFE  AND  MARRIA  QE  IK  SPIRIT  WORLD.        1 99 

riages  formed  tlierc  are  productive  of  greater  hap- 
piness than  those  among  men  in  the  fii-st  condition 
of  life. 

But  as  I  have  stated,  marriage  in  the  spirit  world 
is  not  an  indissoluble  bond.  Some  minds  associate  to- 
gether in  harmony  and  expand  in  the  same  direction, 
and  with  these  the  union  is  permanent.  I  have  seen 
such  in  the  spirit  world,  —  beautiful  and  noble  souls 
intertwined  and  aspiring  together. 

There  be  others  whose  states  and  conditions  after 
a  time  become  changed.  Such  seek  new  companions, 
and  this  is  permitted  without  discredit  to  the  individ- 
uals. 

Manv  forms  of  marriao-e  ceremonies   are  extant 

in  the  different  societies  and  countries.  Garlands  of 
flowers  and  symphonies  of  divine  music  are  bestowed 
upon  the  bride  and  groom.  Bright  bands  of  spirits 
from  the  celestial  heavens  attend  them,  for  they 
represent  in  their  love  and  in  their  wedded  joy  the 
harmonies  of  nature ! 

While  they  love,  sin,  sorrow,  darkness,  and  all 
evils  shrink  from  sight. 

From  these  spiritual  marriages  are  born  soul  attri- 
butes. Human  beings  are  never  generated  in  the 
second  condition :  thev  need  what  is  known  as  the 
material  world  for  their  imrture  and  growth ;  and  yet 
I  understand  that  in  some  of  the  more  refined  spirit- 
ual existences  births  have  occurred.  The  beings  born 
there  are  indigenous — not  generated  by  earth  parents, 
but  offspring  of  those  refined  conditions. 

I  know  not  of  this  as  a  fact ;  yet  if  we  take  the  old 
Jewish  Bible  as  a  liist-ory,  we  find  an  analogous  state- 


200  PROFESSOR  GEORGE  BUSH. 

mcnt  tliorc  in  the  assertion  that  Christ  was  born  of 
God  in  a  spiritual  state  of  existence  previous  to 
entering  tliis  earth  phme. 

Spirit  soils  and  atmosphere  intcrl)lend  and  produce 
trees,  shrul)s,  flowers,  and  the  cereals,  but  the  human 
being,  after  tlie  second  birth,  ceases  to  rej)roduce  his 
species.  Ilis  children  are  thoughts  born  of  the  spirit. 
After  birth  succeeds  death.  The  soul  passes  through 
many  stages  of  existence  in  the  process  of  refinement. 
The  next  state  of  existence  to  the  material,  I  term 
the  spiritual,  and  the  one  beyond  that  the  celestial, 
and  beyond  that  the  seraphic. 

In  the  next  state,  to  which  I  in  common  with  all 
men  who  have  not  passed  some  hundreds  of  years  in 
the  spirit  world  belong,  individuals  pass  through  a 
condition  analogous  to  death  upon  the  earth. 

Spiritual  bodies  are  subject  to  a  process  of  refine- 
ment and  decay  ;  and  the  soul,  as  the  winged  butterfly 
to  whic-h  it  is  likened,  throws  off  its  cerement  and 
assmnes  a  new  form. 

But  with  us  the  transmigration  is  not  veiled  in 
darkness  and  mystery  as  with  you.  "We  can  watch 
the  transformation ;  we  can  see  the  spirit  emerge 
from  its  old  casement  more  ethereal  than  oui*selves, 
but  still  visible ;  and  we  can  hold  communion  with 
it. 

So  slight  is  this  change  with  us  that  your  mediums 
seldom  touch  upon  the  fact. 

Spirit  is  inseparable  from  matter,  and  can  give 
neither  form  nor  expression  without  it. 

The  Great  Invisible  Creator  of  the  Universe  must 


LIFE  AND  MARRIA GE  IN  SPIRIT  WORLD.       201 

have  thought  of  trees,  flowers,  beasts,  birds,  fish,  and 
the  wonderful  exhibitions  of  form  through  the  vast 
reahn  of  matter,  pre^^ious  to  their  existence. 

But  he  had  to  give  them  shape  in  matter  —  perish- 
able but  re-creative  matter ;  and  if  the  Master-mind 
of  all  cannot  express  his  thought  otherwise  than  with 
this  ever  changing,  yet  ever  reconstructing  thing  called 
matter,  how  can  tlie  human  soul  manifest  but  through 
a  spiritualized  condition  of  matter,  ever  changing 
yet  ever  re-creating  and  refining,  mounting  higher 
and  higher,  from  the  earthly  to  the  spiritual,  from 
the  spiritual -to  the  celestial,  on  —  on — till  finally 
reaches  Deity — himself! 


JUNIUS  BRUTUS  BOOTH- 


ACTING. 

All  great  actors  are  media  for  spirit  influx.  It 
■would  be  a  marvellous  sight  if  tlie  curtain  which 
hangs  between  the  spirit  world  and  the  stage  were 
uplifted,  and  the  invisible  drama  which  is  being 
enacted  exposed  to  view.  Then  would  you  behold 
"the  airy  spirits"  to  whom  Shakspeare  so  truthfully 
alludes,  moving  like  comets  in  gorgeous  light  around 
the  inspired  actor ! 

Inspiration  is  motion,  acceleration,  intensity ;  it 
has  no  part  or  parcel  with  lethargy. 

I  recall  my  past  experience,  portions  of  which  I  re- 
view with  regret.  In  endeavoring  to  obtain  this 
energy,  this  motion,  this  acceleration,  I  was  obliged 
in  my  ignorance  to  resort  to  artificial  means.  A 
knowledge  of  the  laws  of  spirit  life  would  have  en- 
abled me  to  have  avoided  tliis  mistake ;  but  that 
knowledge  I  did  not  possess. 

The  actor  of  the  present  day  is  blessed  with  the 
knowledge  that  he  has  merely  to  throw  himself  into 
the  magnetic  state,  and  become  en  rapjyort  with 
spiritual  conditions,  to  find  himself  inspired  —  in- 
flated with  the  divine  magnetic  current  Avhich  flows 

(202) 


ACTUTQ.  203 

fi'om  the  spirit  world  to  the  iiihahitants  of  earth.  If 
a  player  desires  to  represent  a  certain  character,  —  let 
it  be  the  subtle,  fiend-like  Richard  III.  or  the  crafty 
Richelien,  —  the  customary  mode  of  studying  such 
characters  is  to  endeavor  to  imagine  one's  self  to  be 
the  person.  That  is  the  first  step  towards  mediumship ; 
for  it  is  one  degree  from  the  natural,  towards  the  su- 
perior state.  Usually,  through  ignorance,  the  student 
proceeds  no  further  than  this  point ;  and  the  spirit 
assistants  can  only  partially  aid  him.  But  an  actor 
possessing  the  knowledge  of  placing  himself  en  raj)- 
port  with  these  characters,  whether  traditional  or  real, 
is  immediately  cut  loose  from  his  surroundings  and 
becomes  the  Richard  or  Richelieu  whom  he  would 
personate. 

From  the  brain  of  every  spirit  medium  ascends  a 
blazing  sun,  which  burns  the  brighter  when  the 
magnetic  relations  between  it  and  the  spirit  world 
are  most  perfect.  This  blazing  light,  this  radiant 
effulgence,  is  perceived  instinctively,  though  not 
knowingly,  by  every  individual  who  listens  to  a  dis- 
coui-se  fi'om  a  "  trance  medium."  So  from  the  brain 
of  the  actor  this  glorious  light  throws  out  its  rays 
into  the  assembly,  and  when  he  becomes  fidly  in- 
spired, its  magnetic  influence  is  felt  with  overpower- 
ing vividness ;  and  the  result  is,  the  audience  them- 
selves are  set  in  motion,  and  from  pit  to  gallery  you 
hear  vociferous  applause. 

There  are  actors  who  are  good,  and  who  acquire 
fame,  who  have  never  felt  this  divine  afliatus.  The 
intellect  of  the  audience  appreciates  them  for  their 
declamation,  for  the  art  and  artifice  which  they  mani- 


204  JUNIUS  BRUTUS  BOOTH. 

fest ;  l)ut  tlio  liuml)lest  and  most  illiterate  of  that 
assembly  know  well  that  tliis  studied  eloquence  does 
not  fire  the  brain. 

But  it  will  not  do  to  trust  blindly  to  spirit  control ; 
a  knowledge  and  constant  study  of  human  nature  is 
necessary. 

It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  a  person  steadily  look- 
ing- at  one  point  will  influence  twenty  others  to  look 
at  that  point  also,  and  to  imagine  they  see  some  ob- 
ject before  them.  Understanding  this  principle,  you 
may  work  upon  each  attribute  in  the  minds  of  your 
audience.  If  fear  is  to  be  aroused,  do  as  your  neigh- 
bor does  as  he  hastily  enters  your  house  after  meet- 
ing Avith  a  fearful  calamity.  You  become  excited 
before  even  hearino;  the  evil  which  has  befallen  him. 
Every  faculty  can  be  acted  upon  in  the  same  manner 
—  grief  and  joy  alike. 

Of  the  ventriloquial  powers  of  the  human  voice, 
many  speakers  are  ignorant.  The  tyro  on  the  stage 
wishing  to  make  the  remotest  individual  in  his  au- 
dience hear,  l)awls  at  the  top  of  his  lungs.  lie  is 
unaware  that  the  organs  of  the  human  voice  are 
a  kind  of  electrical  macliine,  governed  by  the 
will-power,  and  tliat  the  actor  has  merely  to  throw 
his  will  and  direct  his  mind  to  a  given  point,  for 
his  voice  to  reach  that  point  and  produce  a  far 
more  startling  effect  than  the  loudest  blast  that  any 
pair  of  lungs  could  bring  forth.  Thus  the  lowest 
whisper  can  be  made  to  tell  at  the  farthest  corner  of 
the  theatre. 

But  perhaps  I  have  said  enough  of  the  methods 
best  adapted  to  produce  representations  of  character 


ACTING.  205 

on  the  stage.  The  question  may  arise  in  the  mind  of 
the  reader,  whether  there  is  any  opportunity  of  exer- 
cising the  talent  of  acting  in  the  s])irit  world,  sup- 
posing that  talent  to  have  been  cultivated  in  this. 

In  the  remotest  ages,  and  among  the  most  unculti- 
vated nations,  as  well  as  among  the  most  highly 
civilized,  the  power  of  representing  human  passions 
and  events  has  been  exercised  instinctively,  showing 
this  power  to  be  as  much  a  portion  of  the  soul's  attri- 
butes as  the  gift  of  thought  or  of  fancy.  If  one 
belongs  to  the  immortal  condition,  the  other  does 
also. 

One  of  the  chief  enjoyments  which  the  all-wise 

Creator  has  made  attainable  to  the  inhabitants  of  the 

starry  heavens  is  that  of  dramatic  representations  of 

life,  character,  and  events,  transpiring  in  the  countless 

'worlds  that  M'heel  through  space. 

The  field  of  the  actor  for  depicting  the  truths  of 
human  nature  in  the  world  of  spirits  is  vast  and 
unconfined ! 

Eloquence  is  appreciated  on  earth,  but  that  appre- 
ciation is  weak  and  tasteless  compared  with  the  esti- 
mation of  that  "gift  of  the  gods"  by  the  inhabitants 
of  the  summer  land. 

Some  blind,  short-sighted  investigators  tell  you 
there  is  no  speech  among  us ;  they  would  lead  you 
to  imaixine  that  we  inhabit  a  world  blank  and  void  of 
sound ;  that  stillness  more  unbroken  than  the  grave 
pervades  our  mysterious  realm. 

Conjure  up   the  picture  in  your  fancy,  reader — 
the  soul  shrinks  back  from  such  a  state  !     The  spirit 
world  is  all  voice.     Never  have  I  heard  notes  clearer, 
18 


206  JUmUS  BRUTUS  BOOTH. 

louder,  deeper,  than  resound  tlirougli  the  electric  air 
that  surrounds  my  liorae. 

The  gift  of  speaking,  and  of  representing  individu- 
alities separate  from  your  own  identity,  is  a  spiritual 
gift  decidedly;  and  with  us  theatres  and  amphi- 
theatres are  as  numerous  as  churches  are  witli  you. 
I  will  leave  the  description  of  these  structures  for 
the  ready  pen  and  speech  of  our  friend  Burton. 


JOHN"  WESLEY. 


"THE  DIVISION  OF  THE  CHURCH  OF  CHRIST  INTO  SEVERAL 
BODIES,  AND  ITS  RE-ORGANIZATION  INTO  ONE  GENERAL 
BODY." 

I  WILL  take  for  my  text  this  sentiment  from  the 
New  Testament:  "I  will  draw  all  men  unto  me, 
and  there  shall  be  one  church  and  one  people." 

The  church  which  was  organized  by  our  Lord* 
Jesus  Christ  was  desimied  to  establish  a  feelino-  of 
brotherhood  between  separate  and  distinct  classes  of 
people,  and  to  abolish  the  system  of  castes,  which 
was  the  prevailing  sin  of  the  eastern  nations. 

Christ  made  no  distinction  between  the  Sadducce 
and  the  Pharisee,  the  publican  and  the  saint,  the 
high  priest  of  the  temple  and  the  lowliest  of  his  fol- 
lowers. He  placed  the  affections  above  the  intellect, 
truth  and  sincerity  above  wealth  and  worldly  position. 

The  church  which  he  originated  for  many  years 
followed  in  his  footsteps.  But  as  it  increased  in 
numbers  it  accumulated  wealth,  and  with  wealth 
came  power,  and  from  that  power  issued  discord 
and  separation. 

Thus,  the  church  divided  and  subdivided,  and  split 

*  The  word  "Lord"  is  used  in  tlie  sense  of  an  earthly  lord 
who  cares  for  his  people. 

(207) 


208  JOHN  WESLEY. 

into  a  tlionsand  pieces,  formed  new  interests,  created 
new  beliefs,  and  sowed  dissension  and  envy  with  a 
free  hand. 

Such  lias  been  the  condition  of  the  churcli  for  the 
past  ten  or  twelve  centuries.  Meanwhile,  in  the 
Ileaven  of  Heavens,  has  arisen  a  powerful  move- 
ment directed  towards  restoring  it  to  its  original 
state  of  purity  and  simplicity.  This  great  movement, 
like  a  mighty  river  seeking  its  outlet,  has  rushed  on, 
diverging  at  several  points,  and  at  length  found  the 
reservoir  it  sought  in  what  is  termed  Spiritualism. 

Tlie  spiritualistic  movement  opened  the  gates  for 
the  expression  of  skepticism,  which  the  formalism, 
the  tyranny,  bigotry,  and  externalism  of  the  Churcli 
awakened  in  the  minds  of  the  people  of  every 
enlightened  Christian  nation ;  and  the  result  has 
been  a  criticism  so  pungent,  and  an  examination  so 
thorough  and  direct,  into  the  deformities  of  the 
Church,  that  she  has  been  obliged  to  contemplate 
her  own  condition  and  the  rottenness  of  her  position, 
until  she  fairly  trembles  at  the  view  of  her  disjointed 
parts. 

On  every  hand  now,  at  the  present  moment,  efforts 
are  being  made  to  consolidate — to  rejoin.  On  one 
side  you  behold  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church 
offering  to  unite  -with  the  Methodists,  from  whom, 
since  my  day,  they  have  stood  aloof,  as  an  illegal 
and  fanatical  people  whom  they  could  not  fellowship. 

On  the  other  side,  you  see  them  stretching  to  the 
Roman  Church,  forming  a  brotherly  compact  of 
forms  and  ceremonies  with  Papacy. 

One  branch  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  wears  tho 


ciiuncii  OF  aimisT.  209 

robes  of  the  Eoraan  Clnircli,  and  tliiis  tliat  is  linlced 
to  Catholicism. 

All  these  denominations  which  have  stood  apart 
so  lono;,  whose  theoloc-y  has  been  so  antaoronistic.  are 
now  merging  into  one  Chnrcli. 

In  the  face  of  the  great  danger  which  Spiritualism 
or  Liberalism  has  Ijronght  to  their  sight,  they  en- 
deavor to  return  to  their  first  estate,  but  in  returning 
they  lose  their  identity. 

This  result  is  sure,  though  unperceived  by  them. 

One  by  one,  they  will  give  up  this  point  of  differ- 
ence and  that  point  of  difference,  this  creed  and 
that  creed,  for  the  sake  of  harmony.  This  vestment 
thev  lav  aside,  and  that  form,  until  they  will  all  be 
swallowed  up,  and  neither  Metliodists  nor  Calvinists, 
Baptists  nor  Lutherans,  Annenians,  Jews,  nor  Gen- 
tiles, will  remain.  Then  the  primitive  Church  of 
Christ  will  be  revived  again  upon  earth,  simple  and 
unostentatious ;  its  creed  will  be  the  creed  of  Jesus 
Christ : 

"  The  brotherhood  of  man,  and  the  love  of  God 
for  his  children," 

This  creed,  you  perceive,  embraces  the  whole  of 
the  spiritualistic  faith,  which  is  causing  these  great 
changes  throughout  the  Churcli  of  Christ  on  earth. 

At  this  point  it  will  n<^)t  be  inappropriate  to  make 
some  allusion  to  the  mysterious  sounds  which  oc- 
curred in  my  house  in  Lincolnshire,  England,  at 
intervals  within  the  space  of  three  or  more  years 
dming  my  earthly  ministrations. 

These  mysterious  sounds,  even  in  that  day,  were 
18* 


210  JOHN  WESLEY. 

siii'sposed  to  have  been  caused  by  spirit  agency.  I 
\\ti\(i  ascertained  that  that  supposition  was  correct; 
and  my  attention  has  since  been  directed  to  the  fact 
in  Church  liistory,  that  every  separation  from  the 
Church  body  which  has  originated  in  a  desire  to 
return  to  the  simplicity  and  purity  of  the  primitive 
followers  of  Jesus,  has  been  attended  by  similar 
mysterious  demonstrations. 

Luther  and  Melancthon,  Knox  and  Calvin,  and 
the  earnest  dissenters  and  reformers  of  every  age, 
have  been  haunted  in  lilce  maimer.  I  sav  haunted, 
for  tliey  generally  have  mismiderstood  the  aim  of 
these  spiritual  visitants.'-^  It  has  devolved  upon  the 
scientific  researches  and  the  skeptical  but  investi- 
gating mind  of  the  nineteenth  century  to  form  a 
process  by  which  the  spirit  of  the  departed  can  com- 
municate with  the  dwellers  in  Time. 

To  me  this  science  was  imknown.  Had  I  been 
acquainted  with  the  facts  with  which  I  am  now 
familiar,  I  might  have  established  a  more  li]3eral 
Church,  but  as  it  was,  this  dail}^  association  w^ith  an 
unseen  spiritual  presence  enlarged  my  views  of  the 
condition  attending  the  soul  after  death,  and  caused 
me  to  give  utterance  to  thoughts  which  happily  have 
aided  in  preparing  the  world  for  the  Universal 
Church  which  ere  Ions;  will  lift  its  tdweriuc:  dome 
toward  Heaven. 

*  The  spirit  of  Rev.  Dr.  John  M.  Krebbs,  of  New  York,  states 
through  this  clairvoyant  that  the  cause  of  liis  mental  abben-a- 
tion  while  on  earth  was  a  niisinterj)retation  by  him  of  a  spiritual 
vision  which  he  was  permittt^l  to  receive.  Thus  misunderstand- 
ing the  aim  of  his  spiritual  -sasitants,  he  became  haunted  with  a 
fallacy  which  ultimated  in  his  death.  Ed. 


R  p.  "WILLIS. 


A  SPIJJTT  REVISITING  EARTH. 


(a  fragment.) 


How  wondrous  1 
Through  illimitable  space,  where  myriad  sttns 
And  systems  roll  their  mighty  orbs, 
The  spirit  moves  like  some  strange  wingless  bird, 
Darting  through  space  with  rapid  flight 
Until  he  nears  his  native  home, 
The  earth. 

His  home  no  longer; 
He  has  become  the  denizen  of  a  world 
More  rare  and  beautiful  than  earth. 
With  quickening  pulse  and  grand  emotion 
He  gazes  down  upon  the  globe, 
Whose  habitations  he  has  left  forever ! 
Cities  with  their  palaces  and  towers. 
Surging  seas,  leafy  forests,  and  fields  of  grain, 
The  towering  moimtain  and  the  massy 
Icebergs  of  the  Polar  sea  sweep  past 
His  sight  Uke  fading  visions. 

(211) 


ALLAN  CUNNTN-GHAISI. 


ALONE. 

Fak  away  from  earthly  care, 

Free  as  a  bird,  I  soar  through  air, 

And  think  of  thee  in  thy  sad,  lonely  home, 

Watching  and  waiting  for  thy  love  to  come. 

Dost  thou  hear  me  call  thee,  Sweet !  Sweet ! 

Many  the  years  till  we  shall  meet. 

My  spirit  home  is  bright  and  fair 
With  tlowers  and  birds  and  wonders  rare. 
Seraphic  the  faces  that  on  me  smile, 
But  the  one  I  love  is  on  earth  the  while, 
WiU  she  hear  me  calling,  Sweet !  Sweet ! 
Many  the  years  till  we  shall  meet. 

Many  the  years  I'll  watch  and  wait 
Till  I  see  thee  at  the  golden  gate. 
Then  in  my  arms  wiU  I  bear  thee  away 
To  my  jewelled  home  where  simbeams  play. 
Then  together  we'll  sing,  Sweet !  Sweet ! 
Well  worth  the  waiting  thus  to  meet. 


(212) 


BAKON  VOX  HUMBOLDT. 


THE  EARTHQUAKE. 


This  mysterious  and  awful  visitant,  which  con^iilses 
the  earth  apparently  without  warning,  is,  however, 
like  all  the  manifestations  of  nature,  preceded  by 
signs  which  the  obserN-ing  and  understandino-  eve 
can  perceive  and  calculate  upon  as  unerringly  as  the 
astronomer  can  determine  the  approach  of  a  comet. 

The  inhabitable  earth  is  merely  a  shell  or  crust 
over  the  great  mass  of  uninhabitable  matter.  The 
world  beneath  the  earth's  surface  is  as  diversified  as 
the  world  above.  It  has  its  mountains,  its  streams, 
its  plains,  its  caverns,  and  its  internal  volcanoes. 

As  fearful  storms,  accompanied  by  lightning  and 
rumbling  thunder,  sweep  over  the  earth's  surface,  so 
beneath  the  crust  occur  electric  storms,  accompanied 
with  terrific  combustions  of  gases,  which  in  their 
efforts  to  escape  convulse  the  outer  earth,  and  in 
many  cases  rend  the  shell  asunder.  ■ 

The  earthquake  which  has  recently  (August  13, 
14,  15,  and  16,  1868)  shaken  the  Pacific  coast  was 
occasioned  by  the  discharge  of  the  pent-up  gases  be- 
neath, and  also  in  part  by  the  heated  condition  of  the 
outer  surface. 

(313) 


214  BARON  VON  nUMBOLDT. 

The  "■tidal  phenomenon,"  as  it  is  called,  is  the 
effect  of  the  electrical  condition  of  the  earth  beneath. 
The  chemical  components  of  the  sea  form  a  sensitive 
magnetic  body,  which  is  subject  to  attraction  and 
repulsion,  and  as  the  magnetic  current  extended  for 
several  thousands  of  miles,  and  was  caused  by  a  col- 
lision of  negative  and  positive  forces,  the  sea  was 
attracted  and  repulsed  along  the  whole  line  of  the 
internal  commotion  by  the  action  of  these  forces. 

The  northern  portion  of  this  globe  has  in  times  past 
suffered  from  convulsions  similar  to  those  which  now 
visit  the  tropical  climates. 

The  fearful  privations  and  heart-rending  calamities 
which  visited  the  earlier  inhal)itants  of  the  earth  are 
only  known  to  the  student  of  the  cosmos  of  nature 
after  he  has  attained  the  second  birth. 

The  forces  within  and  around  the  earth  are  now 
in  comparative  subjugation,  but  in  the  earlier  periods 
of  its  existence,  while  still  it  was  in  the  process  of 
changing  from  a  state  adapted  to  a  lower  condition  of 
animal  life  to  one  fitted  to  a  liio-her  state  of  animal 
and  intellectual  existence,  the  elements  were  in  a 
frequent  state  of  rupture  and  disorder. 

No  mortal  pen  can  depict  the  scene  which  I  re- 
cently witnessed  on  the  occurrence  of  the  earthquake 
on  the  Pacific  coast.  Forty  thousand  souls  arising 
amid  smoke  and  blackened  clouds  of  flying  stones 
and  upheaving  earth,  Mitli  outstretched  arms,  and 
faces  strained  with  horror,  emerging  suddenly  from 
their  old  bodies  into  their  spirit-forms — looking  awe- 
struck into  each  other's  faces ;  a  vast  swarm  clinging 
together  almost  as  helplessly  as  young  bees  to  their 


THE  EAIiTII QUAKE.  215 

Iiive  —  sndclenly  cut  off  from  their  occupations  and 
their  pleasures,  their  homes,  and  their  familiar  affairs 
of  earth ! 

But  what  they  experienced,  proud  and  noble  cities 
of  the  past  have  experienced  likewise.  Grace  and 
ornament,  art  and  grandeur,  beauty,  love,  and  manly 
strength  have  been  swept  away  time  and  again  by 
the  bursting  of  the  treacherous  doors  that  lead  into 
the  heart  of  the  earth  ! 

Change  marks  the  footsteps  of  the  Creator.  The 
solid  mountain,  the  firm,  unyielding  earth,  which  to 
the  unthinking  mind  seem  durable  and  eternal  in 
their  strength,  like  mankind  cany  within  themselves 
the  seeds  of  their  o^vn  dissolution. 

Yet  the  day  will  come  when  man,  by  the  aid  of 
science,  will,  through  these  premonitory  symptoms, 
foresee  the  coming  events,  even  as  the  wise  physician 
can  discern  the  time  when  liis  patient's  soul  will 
leave  its  body. 

^Nature  misunderstood  is  a  fearful  mystery;  but 
understood,  she  is  a  simple  and  beautiful  piece  of 
mechanism;  and  the  earthquake  may  not  be  more 
disastrous  than  the  flood  or  the  avalanche  when 
science  and  experience  have  taught  men  to  avoid 
the  localities  of  danger,  and  to  watch  the  horn*  of  its 
approach,  that  they  may  flee  before  it. 

Nature  is  never  abrupt  in  her  actions.  She  her- 
alds her  intentions  long  before  she  enacts  them,  but 
as  it  requires  the  quick  ear  of  the  savage  —  the  child 
of  nature  —  to  detect  the  far-off  prey,  so  it  requires 
the  student  of  nature  to  discover  the  distant  tread  of 
the  earthquake. 


SIR  DAYID  BREWSTER 


NATURALNESS  OF  SPIRIT  LIFE. 

The  111! man  luiiid  is  subject  to  false  and  specious 
reasoning,  and  time  after  time  opinions  wLiicli  have 
been  held  and  argued  upon  \\\\\x  seeming  logical  acu- 
men, have,  by  further  developments  and  discoveries, 
been  proven  fallacious.  And  yet  of  so  elastic  a  na- 
ture is  the  mind  of  man  that  he  is  n<jt  crushed  nor 
discouraged  by  his  mistakes,  but  innnediately  com- 
mences to  build  new  theories ;  but  as  he  estal)lishes 
them  by  specialties  instead  of  generalities,  he  is 
again  defeated. 

The  European  mind  has  adopted  a  certain  line  of 
thought  respecting  the  future  state  of  existence, 
which  it  substantiates  by  narrow  reasonings  and  iso- 
lated facts. 

Of  the  future  we  can  only  judge  by  analogy  of 
the  past  with  the  present, 

Nature  ever  shadows  forth  her  new  developments 
upon  the  old. 

The  many  periods  or  stages  through  which  this 
earth  has  passed  in  reaching  her  present  state  of  re- 
finement, have  been  stamped  one  upon  tlie  other,  so 

that  the  Geoloirist  can  determine  deiiuitely  wliat  will 

(21G) 


NATURALNESS  OF  SPIRIT  LIFE.  217 

be  the  result  of  a  certain  period  from  the  character- 
istics of  the  foregoing. 

■  Now  it  is  educible  :  if  the  Creator  of  the  race  of 
men  who  inhabit  the  terrestrial  globe  had  intended 
for  them  a  future  state  or  destination  differing  in 
every  respect  fi*om  their  present  one,  he  would  have 
prepared  their  minds  for  different  pursuits,  and  or- 
dained them  for  other  occupations  than  those  they 
follow  to  the  very  grave. 

Take  man  in  his  most  natural  condition  —  examine 
those  nations  that  are  most  ancient,  and  unmixed 
with  otlier  races  —  and  you  will  perceive  that  their 
ideas  of  a  future  state  were  in  accordance  with  the 
life  they  were  li%dng  on  earth. 

The  Asiatic  race  in  burpng  its  dead  prepares  the 
favorite  food  of  the  deceased,  the  fragrant  tea,  and 
the  money  so  useful  on  earth.  Also  slips  of  paper 
on  which  messages  are  written  to  departed  friends 
are  lighted  at  these  burial  ceremonies,  and  reduced  to 
ashes,  that  the  spirit  of  the  text  may  be  transmitted 
to  their  friends  in  the  world  of  souls. 

In  these  "Pagan  rites,"  as  they  are  termed,  we  dis- 
cern the  workings  of  an  intuitive  belief  that  the 
spirit  of  man  still  retains  the  sensations,  attributes, 
and  desires  which  have  accompanied  it  through  life. 

The  ancient  Greeks  and  Romans  held  similar 
opinions,  likewise  the  Afi-icans,  Hindoos,  and  the  In 
dians  of  North  and  South  America. 

By  far  the  largest  portion  of  mankind  believe  in  a 
natural  state  hereafter,  corresponding  to  their  earth 
existence,  but  the  European  nations  which  are  sup- 
posed to  be   advanced  in   science,   art,  and  philo- 
19 


2 1 8  STE  DA  VID  BEE  WSTEE. 

sopliical  attainments  beyond  all  the  nations  of  the 
eartli,  have,  in  their  speculations  and  in  their  efforts 
to  penetrate  the  mysteries  of  the  -world  of  spirits, 
lost  sight  of  the  natural  and  entered  the  superna- 
tural, where  they  are  surrounded  by  fogs,  clouds,  and 
ignes-fatui. 

Now  if  these  people  are  told  that  the  spirit  world 
is  divided  into  states  and  continents,  cities  and  towns, 
as  is  their  own  world  (though  under  spirit  appella- 
tions), they  would  scoff  at  the  statement. 

But  as  mankind  has  a  natural  love  of  locality,  and 
as  congenial  minds  will  select  similar  locations, 
adapted  to  their  ideas  of  beauty  and  comfort,  the  re- 
sult is  that  spirit  inhabitants  unite  and  form  cities 
and  towns  as  on  earth.  Thus  combining,  they  must 
have  some  points  of  interest  to  occupy  their  minds, 
and  as  they  still  possess  their  power  of  construction 
and  ingenuity,  their  love  of  beautiful  forms  and  of 
architecture,  they  prefer  not  to  live  in  the  open  air 
and  on  the  bare  ground  (as  they  can  certainly  do), 
but  choose  rather  to  employ  their  various  faculties 
in  buildins;  cities  and  habitations  in  accordance  with 
their  tastes  and  ideas  of  convenience. 

Once  grant  that  man  is  provided  with  a  spiritual 
body  after  he  emerges  from  his  original  one  — 
accept  the  hypothesis  that  this  body  must  possess 
form  and  sensation,  and  with  sensation,  ej^es,  ears, 
mouth,  taste,  and  motion  —  then  you  must  provide 
means  for  that  body  to  exist.  In  providing  these 
means  you  must  place  liim  upon  a  soil  capable  of 
producing  vegetation,  where  his  intelligence  may 
compound  the  va^vious  articles  adapted  to  his  use. 


NATURALNESS  OF  SPIRIT  LIFE.  219 

Some  individuals  enter  the  spirit  world  deformed, 
some  feeble  in  intellect,  some  incapable  of  construct- 
ing or  arranging.  All  these  must  have  pro\-ision 
made  for  them ;  their  wants  must  be  supplied.  The 
effort  to  supply  want  or  demand  produces  a  system 
of  exchange  or  barter. 

Many  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  spirit  world  are 
both  good  and  kind.  They  are  spiritualized  in  their 
natures,  and  are  influenced  by  a  desire  to  assist  those 
who  are  needy. 

Nature,  or  God,  has  ordained  that  existence  should 
depend  upon  effort ;  that  a  state  of  inactivity  should 
produce  dissolution ;  and  much  the  same  means  are 
taken  there  to  enforce  activity  as  in  the  material 
world. 

True,  some  men  possess  natural  gifts,  by  which 
knowledge  is  acquired  without  labor.  The  power  of 
seeing  before  the  demonstration  belongs  to  all  human- 
ity. It  is  the  negative  form  of  knowledge ;  but  com- 
bined with  that  power  is  the  positive,  wliich  compels 
man  to  desire  a  visible  representation  or  demonstra- 
tion of  the  knowledge  he  has  received  by  intuition. 

The  astronomer  thus,  before  he  constructs  his  tele- 
scope, perceives  intuitively  the  very  stars  which  his 
telescope  proves  as  existing,  where  none  are  visible  to 
the  eye. 

It  was  this  active-positive  principle,  that  made 
him  construct  the  instrument ;  and  in  the  spirit  world, 
as  on  earth,  that  active-positive  principle  acts  in  con- 
junction vrith  the  negative-intuitive  one,  in  impelling 
him  to  exertion,  and  forcing  him  to  acquire  knowl- 
edge in  eveiy  department  of  science,  art,  philosophy 


220  SIR  DAVID  BREWSTER. 

and  religion.  As  well  expect  this  earth  to  rest  in  her 
revolution  and  still  retain  licr  place  in  the  solar 
system,  as  to  suppose  that  the  spirit  of  man  can  lose 
its  activity  and  sink  to  rest  eternal. 

Man  is  not  only  active  in  constructing  and  explor- 
ing in  the  spirit  world,  but  he  is  also  engaged  in 
inventions.  Most  of  the  discoveries  that  have  lessened 
manual  labor  and  made  gross  matter  subservient  to 
man's  use  originated  in  the  land  of  spirits.  The  in- 
ventor finds  full  field  for  his  talents  in  the  superior 
state. 

Man  naturally  delights  in  knowledge,  and  the  in- 
dividual who  knows  how  to  construct  a  steam  locomo- 
tive finds  a  thrill  of  satisfaction  in  the  possession  of 
that  ability.  So  does  he  who  can  arrange  and  con- 
struct any  piece  of  mechanism,  any  domestic  tool. 
That  feeling  of  gratification  at  the  accomplishment 
of  his  plans  accompanies  man  to  the  spirit  life. 

All  persons  do  not  follow  the  same  pursuits  in 
which  they  were  engaged  on  earth,  yet  they  adoj)t  a 
kindred  and  congenial  employment.  The  clergyman 
thinks  his  work  done  when  he  leaves  the  earth  ;  but 
in  the  next  state,' also,  he  will  find  beings  who  need 
to  have  their  spiritual  and  moral  natures  instructed  — 
men  who  desire  to  be  led  —  who  cannot  think  for 
themselves,  but  lean  upon  the  thoughts  and  inferences 
of  others. 

So  with  almost  every  pursuit  —  there  is  opportu- 
nity to  exercise  it  in  the  world  of  spirits.  The  painter 
finds  nobler  themes  for  his  p'encil,  more  angelic  faces 
for  his  canvas ;  and  the  desire  to  reproduce  them  as 
they  aj)pear  is  as  intense   there  as  it  is  here.     Al- 


NATURALNESS  OF  SPIRIT  LIFE.  221 

tliough  a  spirit  can  impress  his  form  in  color  and  rai- 
ment npon  the  sensitive  plate  in  the  spirit  world,  and 
the  image  remains  fixed  and  permanent  (for  the 
photographic  art  is  essentially  spiritual  in  its  origin), 
that  result  though  definite,  is  as  unsatisfactory  to 
some  minds  in  the  spirit  world  as  it  is  in  the  natural. 
And  thus,  while  persons  differ  in  their  desires  and 
perceptions,  there  will  be  the  same  varied  modes  of 
expressing  thought  in  the  superior  life  as   in  this. 

The  question  is  often  asked,  "  Why  should  immor- 
tals walk,  when  they  can  move  with  greater  velocity 
than  light  ? " 

In  return  I  would  inquire,  "  Why,  when  men  can 
travel  by  the  steam-engine,  do  they  prefer  the  slow 
movements  of  the  horse  ? " 

Again,  it  is  asked,  "  Why,  if  spirits  can  converse  by 
thought-language — if  they  can  express  with  their 
eyes,  or  impress  magnetically  their  wishes,  or  the 
words  they  desire  to  utter — why  should  they  employ 
their  vocal  organs  ? " 

But  I  rejoin  that  the  deaf  and  dumb  on  earth  con- 
verse by  signs  with  great  celerity,  yet  would  gladly 
express  their  thoughts  with  voice  also. 

Many  trancendentalists  and  idealists  fancy  that 
the  inhabitants  of  the  spirit  world  do  not  converse 
audibly ;  yet  they  would  be  greatly  shocked  if  told 
that  in  that  world  there  reigned  one  vast  silence ; 
that  sound  was  unknown ;  and  yet  such  a  condition 
would  exist,  if  their  mode  of  reasoning  were  correct. 

Xo  unbiased  person  would  suppose  for  a  moment, 
that  song  was  unheard  in  this  land  of  the  immortals ; 
that  the  voices  of  the  spirit  maidens  never  burst  forth 
19* 


222  STR  DAVID  BREWSTER. 

into  melody;  and  that  they  could  not  give  utterance 
to  their  feelings  and  sentiments,  in  the  ^varbling 
notes  of  music ! 

Spirits  can  read  each  other's  thoughts,  although 
possessing  a  universal  spoken  language,  and  also  re- 
taining in  many  sections  the  native  dialect  they  used 
on  earth. 

Though  the  spirit  world  is  a  world  of  marvels  and 
miracles,  and  things  unutterable,  which  the  tongue 
cannot  express,  yet  it  is  a  world  similar  to  the  natural 
one  ;  a  glorified  l)ody  of  the  old  earth. 

The  soul  visiting  that  new  country  will  not  feel 
itself  an  utter  stranger  on  its  shore,  but  will  find  that 
it  can  assimilate  with  the  tlioughts  and  feelings  of 
the  residents  of  that  land,  and  the  knowledge  and  ex- 
perience which  it  developed  on  earth  will  be  useful 
to  it  there. 

If  the  teachers  on  your  planet,  and  those  who  in- 
struct concerning  the  condition  of  the  soul  after 
death,  would  employ  the  same  reason  and  intelligence 
that  they  exercise  in  investigating  any  other  obscure 
subjects ^ — -either  chemistry,  astronomy,  or  natural 
philosoph}',  —  they  would  arrive  at  more  truthful  data 
respecting  the  spirit  globe  which  ultimately  they  are 
all  destined  to  inhabit. 


H.  T.  BUCKLE. 


THE  MORMONS. 


Looking  upon  the  world,  the  voyager  through 
space  discerns  vast  tracts  of  land,  uninhabited  barren 
wastes,  and  immense  forests  echoing  only  the  tread 
of  the  wild  beast  and  the  cries  of  birds  of  prey. 

It  becomes  the  duty  of  the  political  economist  to 
reclaim  these  lands  and  place  them  in  the  hands  of 
civilization. 

How  is  this  to  be  done  ?  Shall  it  be  by  following 
in  the  beaten  track  of  custom  \  No  :  it  can  only  be 
accomplished  by  the  zeal  of  the  enthusiast. 

Joe  Smith  was  an  inspired  man ;  even  as  Columbus 
was  he  inspired.  Through  his  agency  a  colony  was 
started  near  the  dismal  Salt  Lake.  Through  his 
agency,  and  by  the  aid  of  his  apostles  or  followers,  the 
hardy  men  and  women  from  the  overcrowded  popu- 
lation of  Europe,  cramped  by  man,  and  priest-ridden, 
haA'e  been  brought  across  the  ocean  into  republican 
America.  They  have  been  placed  in  this  seemingly 
unpropitious  Salt  Lake  country.  There  they  have 
founded  a  city  ;  they  have  erected  factories  and  mills. 
The  steam  engine,  the  ploAv,  and  the  sewing  ma- 
chine have  aided  them ;   and  now,  in  place  of  a  com- 

(223) 


224  H.  T.  BUCKLE. 

pany  of  barbarous  peasants,  ignorant  and  benigbted, 
and  steeped  in  poverty,  you  find  them  transformed 
into  energetic,  intelligent  citizens,  siirrounded  with 
comforts  and  luxuries. 

And  all  this  has  been  brought  about  l)y  a  religious 
enthusiast ;  by  an  enthusiast  whose  religion  is  believed 
to  be  inferior  to  the  religion  of  Protestants. 

Imagine  for  a  moment  what  result  would  ensue 
from  a  movement  of  this  kind  set  on  foot  by  the  fol- 
low^ers  of  the  Protestant  religion  as  it  is  taught  by 
the  churches  ^f  the  present  day.  Xo  theatres  or 
places  of  amusement  would  add  gayety  to  the  sombre 
city.  The  dance  and  the  sound  of  mirth  would  be 
hushed.  The  inhabitants  would  walk  ever  in  solemn 
fear  of  the  awful  future  that  might  await  them ; 
they  would  despise  their  physical  frames,  crucify 
their  passions,  and  trample  under  foot  the  most  divine 
attributes  of  their  natm-e. 

But  the  reliirion  of  the  Mormons  is  a  natural 
religion ;  it  is  primitive.  They  people  the  world 
even  as  God  peopled  it  in  the  time  of  Abraham  and 
Isaac. 

They  enrich  the  state  by  their  tithes.  They  bring 
in  their  corn,  their  wine,  and  their  fruits,  as  offerings, 
and  the  state  pays  them  back  by  improving  their 
roads  and  building  houses  for  instruction  and  plea- 
sure for  them. 

Their  domestic  system,  w^hich  has  been  so  nmch 
despised  and  ridiculed,  does  not  greatly  differ  fi-om 
the  custom  of  the  civilized  world.  Such  as  are 
wives  with  them  become  with  you  the  neglected 
women  of  the  town.  What  wdth  you  is  considered 
dishonorable,  with  them  becomes  honorable. 


THE  M0BM0N8.  225 

The  man  of  wealth  in  Utah  does  not  concentrate 
his  riches  on  a  few  relatives ;  he  distributes  it  among 
his  many  wives  and  nnmerous  children.  In  all 
times,  nations  wliich  have  grown  rapidly  and  have 
been  developed  in  arts  and  sciences  have  been 
peopled  in  the  same  manner.  The  female  element 
introduces  into  a  community  taste,  ornament,  and 
grace.  Look  at  California  previous  to  the  emigration 
of  women  to  that  land !  Misrule  and  misery  reigned. 
It  is  a  law  of  nature  that  men  and  women  should  be 
united.  In  the  present  form  of  civilization,  a  large 
proportion  of  women  are  compelled  to  remain  single, 
and  their  usef  ulnesss  to  community  and  humanity  is 
dissipated.     The  Mormon  system  eradicates  this  evil. 

The  progress  of  civilization  points  to  a  time  when 
a  mao-netic  relation  shall  be  established  between  all 
the  inhabitants  of  earth ;  when  the  globe  shall  form 
one  vast  circle  of  mind  as  it  does  now  of  matter.  At 
present  the  chain  is  broken ;  the  intermediate  spaces 
are  not  filled  up  by  population.  The  spirit  world  is 
using  all  its  skill  to  bring  about  this  magnetic  con- 
nection, but  till  this  is  complete  the  magnetic  rela- 
tion between  the  spirit  world  and  earth  cannot  be 
perfect. 

"NYise  intelligences  in  the  world  of  spirits  have 
originated  and  guided  the  Mormon  movement,  and 
these  intelligences  will  develop  new  communities 
under  similar  auspices.  The  legislators  of  the  land, 
the  Kapoleons  of  the  day,  would  do  well  to  investi- 
gate the  policy  of  the  leaders  of  Utah. 

The  crimes  common  in  your  large  cities  are  not 
known  among  the  Mormons.     They  live  on  friendly 


226  M.  T.  BUCKLE. 

terms  with  the  red  men  of  the  plains,  and  are  just  in 
their  dealings. 

Each  citizen  is  tanght  that  the  public  welfare  is 
his  own  welfare.  In  your  own  large  towns  the  citi- 
zens shirk  public  duties ;  but  in  Utah  there  is  a 
oneness  of  feeling,  which  it  would  be  well  for  those 
who  consider  themselves  superior  in  the  scale  of 
civilization  to  imitate. 


W.  E.  BURTON. 


DRAMA   IN  SPIRIT  LIFE. 


"Honor  pricks  me  on.  Yea;  but  how  if  honor 
pricks  me  off  when  I  come  on  ?  IIow  then  ?  Can 
honor  set-to  a  leg?  No.  Or  an  arm?  No.  Or 
take  away  the  grief  of  a  wound  ?  No.  Honor  hath 
no  skill  in  surgery,  then  ?  No.  What  is  honor  ?  A 
word.  What  is  that  word,  honor?  Air.  A  trim 
reckoning !  Who  hath  it  ?  He  that  died  o'  Wed- 
nesday. Doth  he  feel  it?  No.  Dotli  he  hear  it? 
No.  Is  it  insensible,  then  ?  Yea,  to  the  dead.  But 
will  it  not  live  with  the  living?  No.  Why?  De- 
traction will  not  suffer  it." 

What  is  honor  ?  A  mere  word.  What  is  Heaven  ? 
A  word  —  a  phantasy.  A  vaporish  place,  too  deli- 
cate and  subtle  for  such  fun-loving,  corpulent  speci- 
mens of  the  Creator's  wisdom  as  old  Jack  Falstaff. 

O  rare  Jack  Falstaff !  He  was  a  child  of  nature, 
and  to  my  thinking,  his  homely  phrases  displayed 
more  intuitive  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  nature  than 
the  finest  transcendental  imaginings  ever  discovered. 

We  shock  the  feelings  of  a  thousand  playwrights 
and  play-goers  by  asserting  that  in  this  impalpable 
land  of  souls  we  are  guilty  of  encouraging  the  play- 

(227) 


228  W.  E.  BURTON. 

house !  But  so  it  is ;  we  cannot  live  on  "  honors ; " 
the  fame  and  glory  which  has  been  awarded  to  ns 
by  our  fellow-men  on  earth  is  like  chaff  to  us. 

It  was  with  hardly  an  emotion  of  surprise  that  I 
beheld  theatres  in  the  spirit  land,  thougli  I  have  seen 
many  who,  having  been  fed  on  the  false  system  of 
religion,  and  pampered  on  glittering  imaginings, 
start  back  with  alarm  on  beholding  the  magnificent 
buildings  we  have  erected  to  the  drama,  thinking, 
that  by  some  strange  turning,  they  had  entered 
through  the  wrong  gate. 

The  drama  with  us  is  a  source  of  both  enjoyment 
and  instruction.  The  liistory  of  past  ages  in  the 
spirit  world  is  enacted  with  thrilling  interest,  and 
each  new  spirit  from  earth  has  an  opportunity  thus 
to  become  acquainted  with  the  transactions  of  the 
past  in  the  land  of  spirits. 

The  gay  and  brilliant  theatre  of  which  I  have  been 
induced  to  take  the  management,  is  original  in  its 
structure,  and  of  a  light  and  beautiful  style  of  archi- 
tecture. The  balconies  are  suspended  and  movable. 
Outside  the  building,  and  overlooking  a  placid  sheet 
of  water,  are  galleries  connected  with  and  corres- 
ponding to  those  within,  where  persons  who  desire 
may  pass  out  during  intermission,  and  regale  them- 
selves with  the  fresh  fruit  and  the  tine  prospect. 

The  partitions  are  constructed  of  light  frames 
with  ornamented  pillars,  covered  with  a  fabric  re- 
sembling parchment.  As  the  climate  is  warm,  the 
partitions  on  the  outside  of  the  gallery  are  merely 
trellis-screens,  and  the  whole  building  is  open  in 
BtiTicture  and  perfectly  ventilated. 


DBAMA  Ilf  SPIRIT  LIFE.  229 

The  plays  wliicli  are  enacted  are  generally  com- 
posed by  persons  in  the  spiritual  condition.  We 
have  many  good  farces ;  and  an  unending  source  of 
material  for  anmsing  plays  is  found  in  the  relation- 
ship between  the  spirit  world  and  earth,  and  the 
eccentric  conditions  growing  out  of  that  relationship. 
For  instance,  there  is  a  laughable  comedy  being 
enacted  at  my  theatre,  depicting  the  adventures  of 
a  pious  merchant,  who,  after  the  toils  and  cares  of 
life,  becomes  a  resident  of  the  spirit  world. 

The  graces  and  beauties  of  the  angelic  women 
whom  he  meets  on  every  side  enamour  him ;  he  for- 
gets his  past  life,  forgets  the  wife  who  has  ruled  him 
on  earth,  and  in  a  moment  of  ecstacy  chooses  another 
mate. 

While  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  bliss,  and  sur- 
rounded by  bands  of  immortals,  the  news  runs 
throuo'h  the  electric  w^ire  that  his  earth-wife  is 
deceased,  and  has  come  in  search  of  him.  The 
consternation  and  fear  of  the  poor  man  furnishes 
ample  occasion  for  amusement,  hilarity,  and  fellow- 
sympathy. 

Our  tragedies  are  cast  in  a  higher  mould ;  many 
of  them  are  more  sublime  than  those  of  eai'th,  rep- 
resenting the  catastrophes  of  w^  orlds.  We  also  have 
dramas  which  awaken  the  affections,  representing  the 
condition  of  those  from  earth  who  are  neglected,  or 
who,  in  consequence  of  a  long  career  of  vice  and 
misery,  cannot  be  approached  by  friends. 

These  brief  hints  will  give  a  slight  idea  of  the 
source  and  character  of  our  dramatic  representations. 

Some  men  are  born  actors,  as  others  are  born 
20 


230  W.  E.  BUltTON. 

painters,  poets  or  preachers ;  and  in  the  spirit  world 
they  can  no  more  lay  aside  those  powers  which  have 
become  a  part  of  them,  than  they  can  lay  aside  the 
gifts  of  observation  or  reflection.  Understanding 
this  fact,  it  will  not  surprise  you  to  learn  that  those 
most  famous  in  the  histrionic  art  exercise  their 
talents  to  listening  thousands  in  the  spirit  world. 

Garrick,  Kemble,  Kean,  Booth,  Cooke,  also  Rachel, 
Mrs.  Siddons,  and  a  host  of  illustrious  actors  of  dif- 
ferent nations,  are  now  "  treading  the  boards "  of 
spiritual  theatres. 

Their  time,  however,  is  not  exclusively  devoted  to 
the  exercise  of  these  gifts,  as  on  earth.  A  consid- 
erable portion  is  spent  in  the  study  of  the  arts  and 
sciences ;  and  many  a  noted  actor  becomes  an  able 
painter  or  musician,  and  many  a  low  comedian  a 
philosopher.  Our  life  is  one  round  of  pleasant 
progression. 

What  I  have  said  about  our  attractive  theatre  and 
my  enjoyable  condition,  I  hope  will  not  induce  any 
of  you,  my  fellow-players,  to  emigrate  to  these  shores 
before  you  are  sent  for ;  but,  like  good  Jack  Falstaff, 
I  trust  you  will  live  in  your  own  world  as  long  as 
you  can,  and  when  Dame  Nature  is  done  with  you, 
we  will  give  you  a  hearty  welcome  and  a  free  pass 
to  tlie-  dress  circle. 


CHARLES  L.  ELLIOTT. 


PAINTING  IN  SPIRIT  LIFE. 

My  friends  know  that  1  was  not  much  given  to 
writing  or  speaking,  and  I  reluctantly  answer  the 
call  that  has  been  made  for  me  to  give  my  views  on 
art  in  the  spirit  existence. 

The  old  masters  whom  we  have  worshipped  from 
boyhood,  Rapliael,  Titian,  Michael  Angelo,  Da  Yinci, 
and  all  tlie  illustrious  names  of  the  Bolognese  and 
Venetian  schools  of  art,  have  passed  away  from  this 
sphere  of  spirit  life,  and  no  longer  walk  the  streets 
of  these  wonderful  cities  which  they  have  adorned 
with  their  works. 

Reynolds,  however,  is  with  us  still,  and  most  of 
the  army  of  painters  who  have  been  born  on  earth 
since  his  day,  here  live  in  bodily  shape  ;  and  I  have 
had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  many  admirable  geniuses 
of  the  French,  German,  and  English  schools,  and 
have  seen  some  of  their  extraordinary  works,  which, 
for  diversity  of  subject  and  majesty  of  conception, 
seem  to  rival  omnipotence  itself ! 

The  great  majority  of  American  artists  are  secretly 

spiritualistic  in  their  faith,  and  believe  that  they  can 

be    inspired    bv   departed    painters.     Innes,   Page, 

(231) 


232  CHARLES  L.  ELLIOTT. 

Cliurcli,  and  Powers,  have  each  felt  and  acknowl- 
edged the  inspiration  of  the  spirit  of  some  great 
master  in  art. 

1  must  confess  that  these  masters  are  not  existing 
in  the  sphere  occupied  by  spirits  who  visit  earth,  and 
will  explain  the  manner  in  which  they  impress  per- 
sons congenial  and  partaking  of  like  sympathies  with 
themselves. 

I  am  informed  that  it  is  not  material  to  what  sub- 
limated sphere  they  may  have  ascended ;  it  is  merely 
a  mesmeric  influence  which  they  exert  over  their  dis- 
ciples, and  this  influence  can  penetrate  through  all 
degrees  of  matter. 

The  reason  why  all  artists  are  not  alike  inspired 
by  the  great  masters  is  that  they  are  not  all  subject 
to  mesmeric  influence,  or  on  the  same  plane  of 
thought. 

Every  disciple  of  high  art,  I  have  no  doubt,  has 
observed  the  magnetic  quality  which  seems  to  pour 
forth  from  the  canvas  of  any  great  master. 

This  arises  fi'om  the  brain  effluvia  which  they  have 
left  upon  the  canvas,  which  is  more  powerful  in  its 
quality  than  a  grain  of  musk,  which  will  impart  its 
odor  for  a  hundred  years. 

The  colors  which  the  artists  here  use  are  formed 
upon  the  same  model  as  those  they  have  been  in  the 
habit  of  using  on  earth.  They  are  more  brilliant 
pigments,  but  color  has  always  the  saijie  origin. 
Some  paint  with  the  brush  and  some  paint  with 
their, fingers. 

I  had  heard  it  remarked  that  the  spirit  had  only  to 
breathe  on  the  canvas,  and  his  thought  would  be  rep- 
resented, painted,  and  shaded  in  a  second  of  time. 


PAINTING  IN  SPIRIT  LIFE.  233 

The  substance  of  this  statement  is  correct,  but 
there  is  a  slight  misapplication  of  the  facts. 

'Tis  true  we  have  the  power  which  we  had  on 
earth  to  a  modified  degree,  of  projecting  the  desired 
form  upon  the  canvas.  I  remember  always,  after 
looking  at  my  sitter,  I  could  trace  in  imagination  on 
the  canvas  the  outline  and  expression  of  his  counte- 
nance. This  is  what  we  do :  the  power  of  execution  . 
is  so  rapid  that  the  time  required  for  painting  a 
picture  might  with  you  pass  for  a  moment ;  but  it  is 
only  a  trained  artist  whose  thoughts  and  comprehen- 
sion are  skilful  enough  to  produce  an  effect  so 
rapidly. 

Those  who  have  not  learned  to  give  form  and 
shape  to  their  ideas  while  on  earth  have  to  pm-sue  a 
more  painful  and  laborious  process. 

The  modern  school  of  color  differs  widely  fi'om 
the  Venetian,  being  crude,  cold,  and  sharp  in  com- 
parison ;  and,  in  accounting  for  this  difference,  I  can 
simply  state  that  one  can  only  represent  what  one 
sees. 

The  poetic,  dreamy  age,  when  men  saw  nature  as 
through  a  veil,  is  past ;  the  matter-of-fact,  investiga- 
ting mind  has  lifted  that  veil,  and  now  sees  objects 
as  if  in  mid-day ;  but,  as  no  condition  is  stationary,  I 
am  told  that  the  mind  is  gradually  moving  on  in  the 
world  of  art  to  a  point  where  it  will  again  see 
nature  in  a  more  subdued  and  generalized  light,  as 
under  the  declining  sun. 

The  past  represented  the  morning,  the  present 
exhibits  the  noonday,  and  the  future  will  indicate 
the  evening. 

20* 


234  CEABLES  L.  ELLIOTT. 

Such  is  the  constant  revolution  of  mind,  and  its 
revohition  though  slow  is  certain. 

In  our  works  of  art,  sentiment  is  the  prevailing 
characteristic.     Portraits  are  in  great  demand. 

Spirits  send  portrait-painters  to  earth  to  obtain 
likenesses  of  their  friends ;  and  those  spirit-artists 
who  have  the  power  of  seeing  the  lineaments  of  these 
friends  and  portraying  them  are  constantly  engaged. 

Leutze  lias  been  employed  by  Lincoln  and  others 
to  represent  scenes  in  the  American  rebellion ;  and 
Colonel  Trumbull,  also,  has  executed  some  magnifi- 
cent pictures  of  the  battles  of  Seven  Pines,  Fair 
Oaks,  and  a  skirmisli  at  Hampton  Poads. 

Stuart  has  completed  a  splendid  portrait  of  Gen- 
eral Grant,  and  is  now  engaged  by  John  Jacob  Astor 
on  a  likeness  of  a  beautiful  lady  dwelling  on  earth. 
I  have  received  a  commission  from  Mr.  James  Harper 
to  paint  a  portrait  of  his  daughter,  who  occupied  the 
carriage  with  him  when  he  lost  his  life.  I  am  at 
present  engaged  on  a  likeness  of  a  lady  residing  at 
Albany. 


COMEDIAN'S  POETRY. 


ROLLICKING  SONG. 


Hurrah  !  Imrrah  !  my  boys  so  bright, 
For  merry  ghosts  meet  here  to-night. 
We'll  sing  and  dance  till  dawn  of  day, 
Then  up  we'll  mount,  away  !  away  ! 
Then  uj?,  up,  and  away  ! 

We  live  in  spirit  land  so  gay, 
And  with  grim  Satan's  fires  we  play. 
You  need  not  fear  the  future  state, 
For  we  will  meet  you  at  the  gate. 
Then  up,  up,  and  away ! 

Come,  friends  of  earth,  and  read  our  bill, 
'Tis  called  the  "sugar-coated  pill ;" 
'Twill  sweeten  all  life's  bitter  care, 
And  lead  you  up,  the  saints  know  where. 
Then  uji,  uiJ,  and  away ! 

Come  laugh  with  us  each  man  and  wife ; 
A  player's  stage  is  earthly  life ; 
The  sting  of  death  is  only  a  prick, 
And  hell  the  parson's  "  trap-door  trick.'''' 
Then  up,  up,  and  away  ! 

Here's  Garrick,  Booth,  and  Kean  so  bright, 
They  shine  like  stars  to  give  you  light. 
So  haste  and  join  the  meny  throng, 
And  loudly  swell  our  hapjjy  song. 
Then  up,  up,  and  away  ! 

(235) 


LADY  HESTER  STANHOPE. 


PROPHECY. 


The  star  of  prophecy  shines  in  the  east.  To  those 
nations  who  were  first  in  the  order  of  creation  be- 
longs by  right  the  power  of  investigating  the  mys- 
teries of  life. 

The  people  of  the  East  have  been  known  in  all  past 
history  for  their  gift  of  prophecy. 

As  water  gravitates  to  its  level,  so  I  gravitated  to 
the  East. 

I  left  my  native  land,  and  for  many  years  sojourned 
amono;  the  wanderino;  Arabs.  This  coni'se  of  ac- 
tion  was  not  imderstood  by  my  countrymen.  They 
could  not  see  the  mystic  star  that  drew  me  away  from 
their  busy  haunts.  The  Magi  of  the  East  had  stood 
at  my  cradle  and  endowed  me  with  the  noble  gift  of 
the  Seeress. 

The  power  of  reading  the  future  does  not  belong 
to  the  Northern  people.  It  is  the  darkest  and  deep- 
est well  that  reflects  the  star  above  it ;  the  dark  and 
swarthy  East  is  thus  endowed.  The  pale  North  can- 
not give  out  impressions.  I  was  an  exception  to  this 
nile. 

There  are  those  who  at  birth  are  possessed  of  East- 

(230) 


PROPHECY.  237 

em  spirits  —  Asiatics.  Andrew  Jackson  Davis  is  not 
a  Northern  man  —  he  is  an  Asiatic.  Look  at  his 
olive  complexion,  his  keen  eye,  his  beard  and  hair  of 
jetty  black,  his  visage, — all  betray  the  race  which 
inspired  him. 

The  faculty  of  discerning  the  future  belongs  only 
to  certain  races,  and  it  cannot  be  universal.  Many 
spirits  profess  to  read  the  future,  but  few  can  do  so 
correctly. 

Yet  the  life  of  man  is  mapped  out  in  eveiy  partic- 
ular, even  before  his  birth.  Men  are  like  planets. 
The  future  of  the  planet  Earth  could  have  been  fore- 
told Ijefore  it  was  thrown  oif  from  the  smi  and  while 
it  was  yet  in  a  molten  state ;  so  each  step  in  an  in- 
dividual life  could  be  foretold :  yet  it  requires  ability 
to  enter  into  the  peculiar  magnetic  condition  in  order 
to  obtain  the  power  .of  foretelling.  It  may  be  said 
if  the  future  of  man  is  thus  mapped  out,  even  as  was 
the  creation  and  progression  of  the  earth,  it  becomes 
merely  a  scientific  affair  to  prophesy  the  future  of  any 
given  individual.  This  is  true,  but  the  inquirer  will 
observe  how  many  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  years 
science  has  been  engaged  in  discovering  facts  concern- 
ing this  world's  histoiy.  The  eye  of  prophecy  could 
foresee  those  facts  and  foretell  them,  though  it  could 
not  lay  down  any  scientific  basis  in  regard  to  them. 

The  events  which  will  take  place  to-mon-ow  may  be 
said  to  have  already  transpired. 

The  water  that  is  rising  from  yon  creek  will  increase 
in  volume.  Conditions  which  have  been  for  days  and 
weeks  in  preparation  will  suddenly  conspire,  causing 
the  stream  to  rise  to  such  a  height  that  the  city  will 


23?  LADY  HESTER  ST.IXHOPR 

he  overflowcvi.  bridgo?;  ?ATopt  avray,  nnd  certain  indi- 
Aidnal>  ?"iibniorirevi  bv  the  onrrent  ami  their  lives  lost. 

This  disastrous  oocnrreiice  is  frovenied  hv  a  law 
which  the  keen  observer  of  nature  could  have  fore- 
told vears  previous  to  the  event. 

As  iu  tlieniatural  world  the  traveller  in  the  desert 
beholds  the  miniire  of  some  city  which  is  hundreds  of 
miles  distant,  suddenly  iirising  upon  the  sandy  waste-, 
so,  in  the  spirit  world,  the  spectrum  form  is  projected, 
and  events  which  are  to  take  place  are  m:\de  visible  be- 
fore their  actual  occurrence.  But,  as  in  the  natural 
world  spectrum  forms  occur  only  under  cert.jiin  at- 
mospheric conditions,  so  in  the  spirit  world  it  is  the 
conjunction  of  circumstances  and  the  blending  of 
magnetic  currents  that  make  it  possible  for  coming 
events  to  be  revealed  upon  the  level  plane  which  is 
set  apart  for  this  pui^x>se  in  the  smnmer  land. 

Man  at  the  present  day  is  so  constituted  that  a  re- 
vealment  to  him  of  coming  events  in  detail  would  be 
injurious ;  and  experience  proves  that  such  disclosures, 
when  made  to  him  in  dreams  or  otherwise,  are  profit- 
less, as  he  alwavs  fails  to  foil  the  evil  of  wliich  he  is 
forewarned. 

History  and  biography  show  that  individuals  have 
time  and  again,  been  admonished  by  their  assiduous 
friends  of  evils  or  calamities  that  were  to  befall 
them,  vet  the  admonition,  thoucrh  timelT  jriveu,  sel- 
dom  enabled  them  to  avoid  their  fate.  Men  have 
been  warned  of  murderous  assaults,  but  they  have  not 
evaded  them ;  premonitions  have  been  given  of  fall- 
ing buildings,  and  these  have  fallen,  involving  in 
Iheii*  destruction  the  loss  of  the  individual's  life  at 
the  precise  date  which  his  dream  foreshadowed. 


PBOPHEfJY.  239 

The  time  will  come  in  the  far  future  when  man 
will  understand  prophecy  as  a  science.  There  are 
few  persons  living  at  tlie  present  day,  who,  looking 
back  upon  their  past  history,  would  conscientiously 
wish  it  had  been  all  revealed  to  thern  at  the  outset  of 
their  career. 

The  withered,  faded  beauty,  at  the  dawn  of  her 
life  of  youthful  triumph  could  not  have  endured  a 
vision  of  the  haggard  unfortunate  wretch  which  she 
would  represent  in  the  course  of  a  few  years. 

These  remarks  apply  more  especially  to  the  so- 
called  civilized  state  of  society  at  the  present  day. 

The  semi-barbarous  nations,  so  termed,  are  in 
closer  sympathy  with  nature.  Life  and  death,  pros- 
perity and  adversity,  are  to  them  as  natural  effects  as 
the  sunshine  and  rain  of  the  terrestrial  globe. 

Their  equanimity,  their  perfect  repose  upon  the 
bosom  of  nature,  causes  them  to  see  more  clearly 
into  the  future  than  do  civilized  nations.  There  is  a 
spirit  of  prophecy  which  does  not  comprehend  the 
detail,  and  only  takes  cognizance  of  the  grand  events 
of  life. 

This  prophetic  condition  is  attainable  by  every 
being  in  a  certain  state  of  exaltation. 

The  poet,  the  painter,  the  statesman,  the  preacher, 
can  alike  in  moments  of  ecstacv  ascend  this  mount  of 
inspiration,  and  foretell  the  advancement  of  the 
world  in  relation  to  art,  science,  and  spiritual  develop- 
ment. But  the  oracle,  the  sybil  of  the  East  can  pene- 
trate a  height  beyond  and  above  this  mount,  and  can 
perceive  the  detail  of  an  individual  life  in  its  mi- 
nutest events. 


240  LADY  HESTER  STANHOPE. 

The  Bible  prophecy  which  foretold  that  "knowl- 
edge should  cover  the  earth,  even  as  the  waters  cover 
the  sea,"  and  that  "  the  wilderness  should  blossom  as 
the  rose,"  was  given  in  an  ecstatic  vision,  and  was 
simply  a  spiritual  comprehension  of  the  power  of  soul 
over  matter. 

As  a  knowledge  of  distance  is  relative,  a  keen  per- 
ception on  the  part  of  the  prophet  revealed  to  him? 
as  he  beheld  the  birds  soaring  in  air,  that  the  journey 
to  lands  beyond  the  sea  was  no  greater  distance  to 
those  winged  creatures  than  a  few  miles  would  be  to 
liim.  The  prophecy  Isaiah  made  more  than  eighteen 
hundred  years  ago,  is  fulhlled  to-day.  Science  has 
annihilated  space ;  knowledge  becomes  universal,  and 
the  wilderness  disappears. 

Tlie  sages  of  centuries  agone  are  animating  the 
bodies  of  to-day.  The  doctrine  of  pre-existence  is  not 
a  fable,  yet  to  have  lived  two  lives  belongs  only  to  a 
chosen  few,  or  those  whom  a  fortuitous  circumstance 
has  blest. 

Napoleon  was  one  of  these.  The  spirit  of  a  great 
warrior  took  possession  of  him  at  birth. 

But  the  condition  of  a  pre-existing  soul  taking  pos- 
session of  a  body  can  occur  only  under  peculiar 
circumstances.  The  soul  principle  is  male  and  fe- 
male, and  its  perfection  depends  upon  the  two  sexes 
as  much  as  the  formation  of  the  body  depends  upon 
the  coalition  of  the  two.  In  states  superinduced  by 
opium  or  intoxicating  liquor  upon  one  party,  the 
spirit  principle  becomes  deadened  so  that  an  active 
immortal  spirit  may  take  its  place. 

This  male  and  fcmnle  spi]-it  principle,  after  forming 


PROPHECY.  241 

a  magnetic  relation  by  the  joined  bodies,  lies  inactive 
in  the  soul  atmosphere  of  the  mother  until  material 
birth.  If,  as  is  sometimes  caused  through  accident, 
there  is  but  one  spirit  principle  active,  the  child  when 
born  will  be  idiotic.  If  the  male  or  female  spirit  of 
the  pre-existing  intelligence  is  of  superior  order,  then 
the  child,  as  its  intellectual  faculties  develop,  will  dis- 
play extraordinary  abilities,  which  w^ill  be  in  accor- 
dance with  the  peculiar  development  of  the  pre- 
existent  spirit. 

The  history  of  individuals  thus  circumstanced  can 
be  more  clearly  discerned  than  others.  Prophecy  in 
bold  and  clear  characters  foretells  the  events  which 
will  transpire  in  their  earth  life. 

In  like  manner  Jesus,  the  celebrated  child  of 
Bethlehem,  had  lived  apre-existent  life  on  earth  He 
had  reigned  over  a  people  in  his  previous  life,  a  wise 
and  loving*  king.  Yague  remembrances  continu- 
ously fluttered  across  his  vision  and  colored  the 
thoughts  to  which  he  gave  utterance. 

When  his  mother  conceived  him,  she  was  not  con- 
scious ;  delirium  of  religious  ecstacy,  superinduced  by 
priestly  influence,  rendered  her  oblivious  to  events, 
and  enabled  this  wise,  tender,  loving  king  to  take 
the  place  of  the  native  spirit.  Christ  never  married 
in  this  life,  because  the  spirits  whicli  possessed  him 
M'ere  not  male  and  female.* 

The  power  of  foretelling  the  future  is  yet  in  its  in- 
fancy. Coining  events  are  said  to  cast  their  shadows 
before  ;  and  as  the  barometer  indicates  to  a  skilful  eye 

*  The  well-known  eccentric  character  of  this  writer  while  on 
earth  may  partly  explain  the  singular  views  here  set  forth.     Ed. 


242 


LADY  HESTER  STAHHOPE. 


the  approach  of  a  storm  when  no  sign  is  ^•isible  in  the 
calm  sky  above,  so  the  events  which  will  befall  an 
individual  are  marked  upon  the  delicate  spiritual 
barometer  which  forms  a  part  of  his  being,  and  can 
be  read  with  unerring  precision  by  the  clear  and 
practiced  eye  of  the  optimist. 


PROFESSOR  I^nTCHELL. 


THE  PLANETS. 


The  worlds  of  light  that  nightly  illume  the  firma- 
ment of  earth  are  not  mere  spheres  of  uninliabit- 
able  matter,  nor  are  they  simply  appendages  to  earth, 
—  glittering  ornaments  to  attract  the  eye  of  man, — 
but  vast  systems  of  suns  and  tributary  planets,  with 
worlds  whose  products  and  inhabitants  far  exceed 
in  organized  development  those  of  this  little  planet 
Eartli,  whose  astronomers  are  just  beginning  to  realize 
the  capacities  of  the  worlds  revealed  through  their 
telescopes. 

Many  of  these  worlds  have  existed  centuries  prior 
to  the  formation  of  the  planet  you  inhabit,  and  their 
inhabitants  have  attained  a  degree  of  civilization 
which  only  time  can  give  to  you. 

The  intellectual  development  of  many  of  the 
dwellers  of  these  planets  is  as  far  superior  to  your 
highest  state  of  culture  as  your  condition  is  in  ad- 
vance of  the  first  stages  of  barbarism. 

Men  of  earth  erect  temples  to  their  God — their  Dei- 
ty—  which  to  them  are  imposing  and  grand ;  but  com- 
pared to  the  magnificent  structures  that  rear  their 
towers  high  into  space  fi-om  those  glittering  points 
that  attract  yom-  eye,  they  are  poor  and  insignificant. 

(243) 


244  PROFESSOR  MITCHELL. 

Yet,  as  being  the  highest  expression  of  yonr  intel- 
lectual unfolding,  we  look  upon  them  with  admira- 
tion, even  as  you  regard  tlie  rude  attempts  of  the 
Egyptians  and  the  earlier  races  in  their  grotesquely 
formed  images  and  temples. 

The  inhabitants  of  some  of  the  planets  attain  a 
life  many  times  the  duration  of  man's.  One  of  the 
causes  of  this  prolonged  existence  is  the  great  age 
and  refinement  of  the  planet.  While  it  is  undergo- 
ing change,  and  preparing  the  vegetable  for  the  ani- 
mal, and  the  animal  for  the  mental  creation,  the  con- 
ditions that  ensue  are  insalubrious,  and  conducive  to 
disease  and  death.  But  Avhen  the  perfection  of  the 
natural  world  is  attained  —  when  it  becomes,  so  to  say, 
spiritualized,  and  its  grosser  elements  are  absorbed  — 
then  the  human  being  can  live  on  its  surface  and  de- 
velop his  faculties  from  century  to  century. 

The  thoughtful  reader  will  perceive  from  this 
statement  that  the  spirits  who  have  inhabited  these 
superior  planets  must  have  attained  a  far  greater 
perfection  than  thosp.  who  have  inhabited  your  eaiih, 
and  the  spiritual  existence,  or  heaven,  to  which  such 
bein2:s  migrate,  is  in  advance  of  the  heavens  in  which 
the  dwellers  of  earth  are  born. 

The  spiritual  heavens  correspond  to  the  firmament 
of  the  natural  woi-ld,  and  thus  there  are  myi-iads  of 
systems  of  spiritual  worlds. 

The  residents  of  these  planets  visit  earth  as  elder 
brothers  who  take  by  the  hand  the  little  faltering 
infants.  But  intercourse  with  the  earth  is  more  diffi- 
cult for  them  than  for  your  own  native  spirits,  from 
the  fact  that  the  magnetic  atmosphere  does  not  assimi- 


PROFESSOR  MITCHELL.  245 

late  with  them.  From  the  earth's  spirit  world,  scien- 
tific minds  of  rare  development  only  have  been  able 
to  visit  the  spirit  homes  of  those  planetary  inhabit- 
ants. 

What  I  have  said  can  give  bnt  a  faint  idea  of  the 
population  of  the  unseen  worlds.  As  a  drop  of  water 
which  is  clear  and  unoccupied  to  the  eye,  when 
viewed  through  the  microscope  is  found  to  be  peo- 
pled with  living  creations,  so  the  worlds  that  over- 
spread the  heavens  are  peopled  in  every  part  that  the 
eye  can  cover. 

Man  is  indeed  nothing;  and  yet  he  is  the  whole  — 
a  mere  speck,  a  point,  and  yet  God  himself  in  the 
aggregate. 


(^ 


DR.  JOHN  W.  FRANCIS. 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  MIND  UPON  MATTER,  AND  THE  CAUSES 
OF  INSANITY  AND  THE  VARIOUS  DISEASES  WHICH  AFFLICT 
HUMANITY  A  T  THE  PRESENT  DA  Y. 

The  rude  uations  of  the  earth  believed  tliat  disease 
was  the  result  of  e^dl  spiritual  agencies,  and  tlie 
untutored  savage,  without  the  aid  of  books  or  any  of 
the  advantages  which  the  learned  physician  possesses 
of  studying  the  human  system,  arrived  at  the  conclu- 
sion that  disease  was  inflicted  by  living,  unseen 
individualities. 

Science  has  discarded  that  idea.  It  has  dissected 
the  human  body,  and,  finding  the  result  of  the  dis- 
eases, has  assumed  to  have  found  the  cause ;  assumed 
that  it  is  mere  bodily  disarrangement.  Yet  any 
intelligent  physician  will  tell  you  that  in  his  own 
experience  he  has  witnessed  the  effect  of  mind  upon 
the  body ;  that  he  can  give  a  bread  pill  to  a  patient, 
informing  him  that  it  is  a  purgative,  and  it  will  act 
in  that  manner;  that  a  certain  powder  will  create 
nausea  or  a  burning  sensation,  and  it  will  produce 
those  results  when  the  powder  itself  is  harmless. 

As  the  body,  if  permitted  to  decay,  comes  to  be 
infested  with  vermin,  so  the  spirit,  if  allowed  to 
remain  idle  and  inactive,  will  become  infested  by 
21*  (246) 


DISEASE  AND  INSANITY.  247 

spiritual  vermin  wliieh  will  taint  and  destroy  it ;  and 
the  savage  idea  that  disease  is  caused  by  spiritual 
agency  is  correct. 

If  an  individual  permit  any  one  idea  to  obtain 
predominance,  and  he  dwell  upon  that  idea  to  the 
exclusion  of  other  thoughts,  he  will  attract  spirits 
who  fill  the  air  —  not  organized  spiritual  beings  who 
inhabit  the  spirit  world,  but  half-organized  beings 
(pol}^us)  who  live  in  this  atmosphere  and  were 
originated  from  the  brains  and  the  physical  organ- 
isms of  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth:  these  beino;s, 
finding  his  mind  concentrated  or  magnetized  to  a 
point,  will  effect  an  entrance.  Suppose,  for  instance 
the  person  centres  his  mind  upon  the  loss  of  a  friend 
or  of  money :  this  concentration  becomes  a  magnet, 
which,  like  the  rays  of  sunlight  acting  upon  a  poi-- 
tion  of  vegetation,  produces  decomposition  upon 
which  spirit  vermin  may  feed.  So  by  dwelling  too 
continuously  upon  one  thought,  certain  faculties  of 
the  mind  become  excited  by  constant  action,  while 
others  become  paralyzed  and  the  result  is  insanity. 

Now  spiritualists,  or  believers  in  spirit  intercourse, 
should  be  the  most  healthy  persons  in  the  community, 
for  they  understand,  or  should  understand,  the  laws 
of  psychology  which  teach  that  constant  dwelling 
upon  one  thought  will  bring  spirits  of  like  character 
who  will  intensif}^  that  thought,  and  they  also  know 
that  they  have  but  to  use  their  will  and  the  whole 
magnetic  relations  will  change  and  a  new  influence 
will  be  brought  to  bear. 

Tell  a  man  he  has  heart  disease,  make  him  beheve 
it,   and  his  heart  will  beat  like   a  sledge-hammer. 


248  DR.  JOHN  W.  FliANCIS. 

Tell  him  his  liver  is  diseased,  make  him  believe  it, 
and  he  will  feel  hilious  and  look  bilious. 

Tell  a  man  he  looks  well,  compliment  him  npon 
his  appearance,  and  he  will  feel  well,  look  spruce, 
and  his  spirits  will  become  elastic. 

It  has  been  a  matter  of  surprise  to  some  why  the 
spirits  have  taken  such  an  interest  in  the  science  of 
medicine,  and  vdiy  they  have  developed  so  many 
as  healers.  It  is  that  they  may  teach  man  that  dis- 
ease is  generally  a  magnetic  condition  ;  and  they  hope 
to  teach  the  community,  through  tliose  physicians 
whom  they  develop,  to  discard  drugs  and  rely  upon 
magnetic  influences  and  the  power  of  the  will  to 
keep  the  body  in  its  normal  condition  of  health. 

Too  much  stress  cann(^t  be  laid  upon  the  power  of 
the  will  in  dispelling  disease,  and  in  expelling  it. 

A  diseased  patient  may  be  likened  to  a  medium 
who  is  possessed  by  a  spiritual  l)eing  of  low  order. 
The  very  low  condition  of  the  spirit  causes  him  to 
adhere  and  cling  to  tlie  medium,  and  unless  the  will 
is  directed  to  exorcise  him,  he  will  keep  his  subject 
continually  under  his  influence  and  the  proper  indi- 
viduality of  the  person  will  be  annihilated. 

Thus,  disease,  like  an  evil  spirit,  takes  its  hold  upon 
an  individual,  and  can  only  l)e  overthrown  from  its 
position  by  a  strong  will,  which  sends  it  shrinking 
away  like  a  criminal  from  tlie  body  it  has  infested. 

If  the  will  of  the  ])aticnt  is  not  sufficiently  strong, 
then  the  will  of  some  good  friend  must  be  used. 
These  good  friends  are  known  as  healing  mediums. 
Also  a  change  of  air  and  scene  should  be  obtained, 


DISEASE  AND  INSANITY.  249 

which  brings  the  will  into  a  new  action,  and  thus 
dislodges  the  tenant. 

The  will  is  like  a  sharp  two-edged  sword,  which 
cuts  rio-ht  and  left,  and  leaves  no  chance  for  skulkiuir 
to  anything  to  which  it  has  directed  its  power. 

I_  will  close  my  remarks  by  repeating  that  the 
savage  is  right  in  his  belief,  and  that  disease  is 
indeed  the  result  of — I  might  call  them  spiritual 
harpies,  who,  though  they  may  not  in  these  civilized 
times  be  driven  out  by  the  beating  of  drums,  the 
tom-tom,  and  the  howling  of  frenzied  savages,  yet 
can  be  dislodged  by  kindred  manipulations,  such  as 
mesmeric  passes,  deep  breathing,  and  a  positive 
though  almost  quiet  exercise  of  the  will. 

Some  of  my  brethren  of  the  profession  will  be 
surprised  to  find  these  views  advanced  by  one  whom 
they  believe  held  more  rational  opinions  on  earth; 
but  there  are  others  whose  keen  intellects  have 
pierced  through  the  wisdom  of  the  schools,  and  have 
discovered  that  the  physics  they  have  concocted, 
when  applied  to  the  complex  mechanism  of  the 
human  system,  in  palliating  the  disorders  of  one 
function  disarrange  some  half  a  dozen  others,  and 
that  the  soul  and  the  body  are  so  interblended  that 
we  must  heal  a  disease  of  the  body  through  and 
in  conjunction  with  the  spirit,  its  counterpart. 


ADELAIDE  PROCTER. 


THE   SPIRIT  BRIDE. 


You  told  me  you  loved  mc,  and  vowed  of  old, 
When  you  reached  that  land  of  jasper  and  gold, 
To  me  j-ou'd  return  in  the  hush  of  night. 
And  show  me  a  glimpse  of  your  land  of  light. 

I  sit  in  the  shadows,  and  wearily  wait 
To  see  you  throw  open  the  starry  gate : 
Through  my  golden  ringlets  the  chill  winds  blow, 
While  I  watch  your  coming  through  falling  snow. 

How  long  must  I  wait  ?    Are  you  ling'ring  where 
The  blue-eyed  angels  your  sweet  kisses  share  ? 
Is  your  home  so  radiant  that  never  more 
Your  steps  will  be  heard  at  my  lowly  door? 

Ah  !  what  do  I  see  through  my  blinding  tears  ?  — 
WTiat  misty  form  through  the  tempest  appears  ? 
A  cold  hand  now  touches  my  bviming  brow, 
A  low  voice  whispers,  "I  am  near  thee  now." 

Bend  low  —  let  me  kiss  thee,  thou  viewless  thing; 
No  rising  passion  thy  cold  lips  bring ; 
But  hushed  is  the  throb  of  my  burning  heart 
As  upward  he  bears  me  —  no  more  to  part. 


THE    END. 


.«•. 


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